


Dragon Flyz - A NaNoWriMo 2012 Project

by Ry_Sabir



Category: Dragon Flyz
Genre: F/M, Family, Gen, M/M, Mostly Gen, Science Fiction, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 00:16:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 80,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ry_Sabir/pseuds/Ry_Sabir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Done alongside TinySprite as a NaNo project in 2012 (with the idea that there needs to be way more Dragon Flyz fic out there). All the stories contained in this collection are based on prompts from the LJ Community 100 Prompts, and all stories are set in the same continuity and in roughly chronological order. I would love feedback from any Dragon Flyz fans out there!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Evidence

**Author's Note:**

> Dragon Flyz is the property of Abrams/Gentile Entertainment and Gaumont Multimedia. All characters/locations/properties who appeared in the show belong to them. This is a work of fan fiction, and no proceeds are being made off of it. Miriam is my character alone, however, though she is free on loan if you ask nicely. :)

Prompt 1: Evidence

                Old Earth smelled like death and decay as Thunder brought them out of the Wind Pits.  Zarkan wrinkled his nose; somehow, the smell was something one never got used to.  The lava pools simmered as Dragon Flyz Team Two finished emerging from the Wind Pit and began their flight toward the hulking form of Warnado in the distance.

Zarkan opened his Vox Box channel back to Skywatch and Airlandis, “This is DF Team Two, Dragonator Zarkan reporting in,” he said.

The Vox Box crackled to life with Aaron, leader of the Dragon Flyz, voice, “Acknowledged, Zarkan.  What do their defenses look like?”

Zarkan activated his visor’s telescopic vision to get a better picture of the scene around Warnado.  “I see at least two swarms of Gremwings surrounding Warnado.  Fryte and several mutants I don’t recognize seem to be out patrolling as well.  I would say Dread Wing is expecting us.”

“Would you like us to send backup, Dragonator One?” Aaron asked.

“Negative,” Zarkan replied.  “If we show up with an army of Dragonators, Dread is unlikely to tell us anything he knows about the Dragon Flyz.  No, let’s let Dread Wing think we’re playing by the rules he’s set forth.  But once we enter Warnado, I’ll leave a Vox channel open to Skywatch.  Zarkan out.”

Zarkan opened a short range channel to the rest of his team.  “All right, Flyz.  We’re going in _without_ Wind Jammers blazing.”

“What?!” came Nora’s reply, as her face appeared on the video monitor built into Thunder’s saddle.  “You can’t expect us to fly into a swarm of Gremwings and not defend ourselves?”

Dram’s grave face appeared in a quadrant of the screen, shaking his head.  “Zarkan is right, Nora.  If we engage the mutants and gremwings in a firefight, we may lose our opportunity to discover what has happened to Z’neth and the others.”

Zarkan nodded.  “Exactly.  Though I never said we had to play Dread’s game by his rules.   Everyone, remove a Wind Slammer for quick access if necessary.”  He watched as each of the dragonators removed a small explosive device from their Wind Jammers.  Though only as small as a finger, Orak had packed enough power into each Wind Slammer that it could create a towering wall of lava with ease if dropped into one of the lava pools.

As they neared Warnado, Zarkan could hear the screeching and chittering of the gremwings.  They were base, nearly mindless creatures that the mutants could control, but with their sharp, needle-like teeth, three talons, and tendency to swarm, they could prove to be more than a minor problem for even the most experienced dragonators.

Suddenly, Fright and the new mutants seemed to catch sight of them, and flew at them with plasma cannons at the ready.  When Fryte was within shouting distance, he bellowed, “What is your business, hu-man!”  Zarkan could see the saliva dripping down the foul creature’s jaws.

“I come to parley with Dread Wing, mutant!”  Zarkan’s voice rang out loud and clear across the foul landscape.

“Leave now, or you will burn in the lava pools, hu-man!”  Fryte shouted, brandishing his lava gun, and shooting a fiery blast straight up into the air.  The new mutants followed suit, all savage roars and brutality.

Out of the corner of his eye, Zarkan saw Amod and Nora preparing to launch their Wind Slammers at Fryte, but before they could, Nocturna flew from the mouth of Warnado.  Of all the mutants who served as Dread’s lieutenants, Zarkan knew Nocturna to be the most treacherous.  She had openly defied Dread Wing on a number of occasions in bids for power that Airlandis knew about, and likely many that they had no knowledge of.  Still, she remained Dread’s second-in-command.

“Fryte, do put that plasma cannon away,” she crooned, flying between Fryte and Zarkan.  “You wouldn’t want to face the price of hurting Lord Dread Wing’s special…guests.”  Fryte growled, but lowered his weapon.  Nocturna turned to Zarkan, “Now, leave your dragons out here and follow me.”

“Dragon Flyz, maximize!” the four dragonators said in unison as their exo wings emerged from their flight suits and carried them into their air and off the backs of their dragons.  They followed Nocturna into the bowels of Warnado, through twisting, hellish tunnels filled with indescribable horrors.  Finally, they reached Dread Wing’s throne room.

Zarkan had engaged the self-styled King of Old Earth in battle on many occasions, but rarely had the opportunity to observe the mutant warlord up close.  He was close to seven feet tall, and his red skin and lurid yellow eyes gave him the fearsome appearance of a demon spawned from hell itself.

“Welcome, Dragon Flyz,” Dread Wing said with a sickening smile, revealing rows of pointed teeth.  He lounged on this throne, with was covered in amber crystals – the power source that he was well aware Airlandis needed to keep itself aloft above the Warp Winds.

“Why the sudden hospitality, Dread?” Nora spat.

Zarkan nodded.  “We know you have something to do with our missing dragonators, Dread Wing.  What do you want?”

Dread laughed, a deep and throaty chuckle that raised the flesh on the back of Zarkan’s neck.  “What I have long desired – the floating city of Airlandis.”

Nora and Amod sputtered with rage, but Zarkan held a hand up to still them.

Dread continued, “But today I will settle for what the Mistress of the Endless Night demands – justice.  For too long you have raided my kingdom for the Amber crystals, and none have been more a thorn to my flesh than the spawn of Aaron.  But today, justice has been done, and the thieves have been punished.”

From a side corridor, the four new mutants came in, each carrying a shrouded figure.  They unceremoniously dumped the bodies at Zarkan’s feet.  Zarkan knelt down and slowly pulled back the rough cloth, only to have his throat catch at the sight of the face.

It was Z’neth.  His face was battered and bruised; swollen purple lips no longer drew breath.  Zarkan’s eyes stung and the roar of water filled his ears.  It was all he could do to stop himself from attempting to kill Dread Wing where he stood.

Dread appeared to take their shocked silence for submission.  “And so ends the tale of the Dragon Flyz – wings forever clipped,” he added with a gloating laugh.  “Take their remains from my sight, and remember that this is now the fate that awaits all who try and steal my amber crystals.”

Zarkan numbly pulled the shroud back over Z’neth before picking up his limp form.  Amod, Nora, and Dram all picked up another of the bodies before all activated their exo-wings and flew from the room, Dread Wing’s cackles haunting them all the way out of Warnado.

Time seemed to slow down and speed up in tandem on their flight back to Airlandis.  None of them spoke, except to request docking clearance from Skywatch and request Aaron and a medical team’s presence on their landing.

Z’neth had been Zarkan’s boyhood crush, teenage mentor, and adult colleague and friend.  Seeing his still form crushed Zarkan’s spirit in a way he had never thought possible.  Still, it was nothing compared to the anguish on Aaron’s face when he saw the beaten bodies of his four children.  Zarkan’s tears finally flowed free as he embraced Aaron.

The medical team headed by Zarkan’s sister Miriam arrived, and he saw her openly weeping at the sight of their dear friends.  Zarkan helped her lay the bodies onto a hover-lift for transportation to the medical bay.  As he was about to go make his report to Skywatch, Dram laid a hand on Zarkan’s shoulder.  “I would like to accompany Miriam and the medical team,” he said gravely.  Zarkan understood of course – Dram was the Dragon Flyz older brother in spirit if not in blood. 

“Leave granted, of course,” Zarkan said.  Dram nodded before heading off after Miriam and Aaron.  Zarkan turned to Nora and Amod.  “Come with me – we have to make a report to the Council immediately.”

The next few hours were a blur, going over the details of what had happened with the Council members and Skywatch officials.  It had been a long time since a dragonator had been killed by an enemy force, and it stung all the more for it to be DF Team One.  Zarkan swore he saw head councilman Joshua age more in a few minutes than he had in years.  It was decided that they would not release the information to the general populace right away, but would give the family time to grieve in private.

Only by that evening were Zarkan, Amod, and Nora cleared to leave, though they were cleared from active duty for the remainder of the week.  Amod and Nora bade their leave to turn in for the night, but Zarkan made his way through Airlandis’ golden corridors to the medical bay and his sister’s office.

The scene that greeted him was certainly not what he expected.  Inside, he found his sister Miriam, Aaron, and Dram at work.  “What’s going on here?” he asked.

Miriam gave him a stern look over her glasses.  “What does it look like?  We’re burning wing to try and save our friends!”

Zarkan raised an eyebrow.  “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but Z’neth and the others are gone Miri.”

Aaron floated up from the sample he was viewing under the microscope.  “Maybe not, Zarkan.  Tell him what you told me, Dram.”

“I have lived with these four almost my whole life, Zarkan, and the smell is wrong,” Dram said.

“And it can’t be accounted for by any decomposition?” Zarkan asked.

Miriam shook her head.  “That’s the funny thing.  Dram’s sense of smell gave us the first clue, but digging into the microscopic level revealed a whole host of issues.”  She gestured to the supine forms laid out on the examination tables.  “These may look very much like our friends, but genetics don’t lie, brother.  We believe these are mutein-derived genetic constructs.  Clones made to appear very similar to Z’neth, Summit, Peak, and Apex, but only on the surface.”

Zarkan was getting excited now.  “If these aren’t them, then what happened to the real Dragon Flyz?”

“Dread Wing’s four new lieutenants,” Dram answered.  Of course – Dread Wing didn’t simply want to kill the Dragon Flyz.  He wanted to subjugate and pull them into his nightmarish world.

Zarkan turned to Aaron.  “What’s our next move, sir?”

“I believe your sister has isolated the mutein/DNA hybrid that let these clones appear as my children.  We’re currently working on a reversal agent – if it brings the clone back to its natural state, it should reverse the effects of the mutein on the Dragon Flyz.  Our next problem would be administration,” Aaron finished.

“Leave that to me, sir.” Zarkan replied, a look as cold as plasteel in his eyes.

Dram clasped his shoulder.  “You mean leave it to us.  I go with you to save my family.”

*****

It was a stealth mission to be sure.  No flying orders were filed with Skywatch, and only Aaron, Miriam, Councilman Joshua, Dram, and Zarkan knew about their suspicions regarding the clones.  Miriam and Aaron’s work had extended through until the middle of the night, but when they injected the fake Z’neth with the test serum, his features seemed to run and blur until there was nothing but a smooth humanoid shell left.

So, armed with self-injecting darts containing a reversal agent genetically coded to each of the Dragon Flyz, Zarkan and Dram set off for Old Earth and Warnado under the cover of night. 

“Activating Dragon Night Fight mode,” Zarkan said, engaging his night vision visor.  The two dragonators quickly reached the edge of Dread Wing’s territory, where they left their dragon mounts and continued on via exo-wings in Zarkan’s case, and graceful Dramen wings in Dram’s.

Warnado was eerie at night, lit from below by the churning magma rivers surrounding it.  Zarkan and Dram were easily able to avoid the night guard patrols and slip into the ship. 

“Where do you think they are keeping them?” Dram whispered.

Zarkan thought for a moment.  “Considering their mutation is very recent, I doubt Dread Wing would want to leave them unsupervised.  Gangryn’s laboratory seems like the best place to start our search.”

Making their way to what Peak had once jokingly referred to as the “Hall of Horrors,” Zarkan and Dram keep a close lookout for any unexpected trouble.  Their Wind Jammers were loaded with tranquilizer darts to avoid setting off a firefight and alerting all of Warnado to their presence in the tunnels. 

The metal door to Gangryn’s laboratory was unguarded.  Cracking it open just enough to squeeze through, Zarkan slipped inside, followed by Dram.  Inside, the laboratory was filled with a lurid green light from four tanks set up along the far wall.  And inside those tanks floated the Dragon Flyz.

Zarkan rushed to the workstation terminal as Dram got a closer look at their friends.  Or what was recognizable anyway.  Z’neth, Peak, Summit, and Apex all appeared to be in mid-transformation between human and mutant.  Zarkan brought the computer terminal to life, looking for files that might help them.  The last thing he wanted was to further harm his friends in a rush to get them out of Warnado.  When the computer appeared loathe to relinquish its secrets, Zarkan swore and removed his helmet, placing it on the table.  “The data appears to be heavily encrypted.  Computer, access and download all pertinent files regarding the mutant Dragon Flyz project.”  The quantum chip came to life as the helmet’s upgraded computer system began scanning and accessing the pertinent files.

“I recognize this substance,” said Dram.  “It appears similar to the mutein used by Dread Wing on Sky Fury’s cub.”

“That particular batch was designed to not only mutate, but also instill fierce loyalty to Dread Wing in the process,” Zarkan said gravely.  Their task could be more difficult than first believed.

The helmet’s computer chirped as it finished its search.  Placing it back on his head, Zarkan began accessing the data.  “I can’t make sense of half of this, but the first thing we should do is remove them from the mutein.  The longer their expose, the more permanence the transformation appears to gain.”

Dram had just begun scaling the side of the first tank when the sound of murmuring and footsteps approaching echoed from outside the laboratory.  Zarkan and Dram ducked underneath a large workbench as the door swung open.

“Why are my new mutants not ready yet Gangryn?” Dread Wing bellowed at his chief scientist.

Gangryn cowered but replied, “It is a very delicate process, my lord!  Too much mutein exposure early on could irreparably harm the subjects!”

Dread snarled.  “Do you think I care if the Dragon Flyz suffer, Gangryn?  No, I want them broken, their identity washed away.  All that will remain is me.”

“As you say, Lord Dread Wing,” Gangryn replied in his most sycophant voice.  Zarkan saw the mutant scientist push a level, and the mutein started to glow a brighter green.  Apex contracted in pain, and Summit let out a gurgling scream.  Zarkan could wait no longer – he couldn’t risk it.

“Now, Dram!” he cried, launching a Wind Slammer at Dread Wing and Gangryn.  It exploded, throwing Dread and Gangryn to the floor, knocking them out and decimating the laboratory.  Dram aimed his Wind Jammers at the tanks and fired, shattering the glass and releasing mutein all over the laboratory.  Zarkan rapidly loaded the anti-mutein vial coded to Apex and shot her with it, following suit with Z’neth, while Dram did the same for Summit and Peak.

The Dragon Flyz features seemed to stabilize before beginning to morph back into their human form.  Teeth shortened and eyes turned from yellow to white as the siblings regained their true forms.  Zarkan breathed a sigh of relief as pulled four emergency exo-wings from his pouch.  Not as strong as their regular counterparts, these would at least get the four unconscious dragonators back to Thunder and Shockfire.  Dram threaded a towing cable between the exo-wings

Maybe that sigh had come too soon.  Zarkan heard Dread Wing growl with rage as he awoke on the floor of the laboratory covered in mutein.

“Let’s burn some wing, Dram!” Zarkan said, activating the exo wings and towing the dragonators between him and Dram.

Suddenly, Warnado was all sirens and flashing lights as the alarm system was activated.

“You will never leave this fortress alive, human scum!” the lord of Warnado screamed, releasing a plasma blast over their heads.  His monstrous wings unfurled, and Dread Wing launched himself after the escaping group.

“I will try and slow him down!” Dram yelled, tossing his end of the tow-cable to Zarkan, who caught it and put his exo-wings into overdrive.

Zarkan caught snatches of the vicious fight that ensued – cracking bone and claws tearing flesh.  But he didn’t have much time to pay it attention as gremwings began pouring out of every foul crevice, screeching and shrieking.  Zarkan activated his vox box and yelled, “Thunder, I could use a little air support!”

Within moments, his dragon’s head crested over the lip of Warnado before diving in straight after Zarkan and the Dragon Flyz.  They met in the middle, and Zarkan lashed the unconscious siblings to Thunder’s saddle while letting off volley after volley of wind jammer fire into the horde of gremwings.

“Listen, Thunder – you get them to safety.  Go straight for the Wind Pits and don’t stop until you reach Airlandis!” Zarkan said, patting his dragon’s nose.  “But tell Shockfire to stay put – Dram and I will need to get away quickly.”  Thunder roared in response, and Zarkan could feel that he would follow the plan.

Zarkan fired off another round into the gremwings before chucking a Wind Slammer into them, which blew a path for Thunder’s escape.  Turning around, he flew back toward Dram and Dread Wing, barreling into Dread and knocking him against the wall.  Picking up the injured Dram, Zarkan use the remaining bit of power left in his exo-wings to propel them out the top of Warnado’s mouth and into the dark night.  Zarkan seemed to hang there for an extended moment before Shockfire appeared beneath him and carried them far away from Dread Wing’s carnal howls.

*****

Emerging from the Wind Pit and tasting to cool, fresh air above the Wind Pits was just about the most wonderful thing Zarkan had ever experienced.  He had used some of the dragonators’ standard burn salve on Dram’s wounds, but would feel much better once the Dramen dragonator was under proper medical supervision.

“Thank you for coming with me, Dram,” Zarkan said.  “Your strength is what allowed this mission to succeed.”

Dram coughed, then shook his head.  “You volunteered to save my family.  I should be thanking you.”

Zarkan clasped him on the shoulder before opening a channel to Skywatch.  “Airlandis, this is dragonator Zarkan reporting in.  Did the package arrive safely?”

“Affirmative, Zarkan,” Aaron’s voice came across the Vox Box.  “Thunder brought them home.”

“Good.  I’ll give him an extra treat later.”  Shockfire made a grumbling noise, and Zarkan laughed.  “All right, girl, you too!”  He scratched her neck affectionately.

Aaron came back on the line.  “Do you require a medical team, Zarkan?”

“Yes.  Dram got in a bit of a scrape with Dread Wing, which you’ll be proud to know went rather badly for the old mutie.”

Aaron’s chuckle resounded as Airlandis golden dome came into view.  It was a heartwarming sight.  Emergency landing procedures went smoothly, and a medical team was on hand to take Dram into immediate surgery to repair several broken bones.  Zarkan took Shockfire and bedded both her and Thunder (who greeted them both with many cheerful snorts and licks).

“You look terrible, brother,” came Miriam’s voice as she strode across the dragon habitat, a medical kit in her hands.  “Aaron expresses his sincere gratitude by the way.”

“How are Z’neth and the others?” he asked.

Miriam shrugged.  “As well as can be expected, considering the amount of mutein they were exposed to.  They’ll be off duty for at least several weeks; probably more if Aaron has his way.  And I get the true pleasure of cleaning out any rogue strands still hiding in their DNA,” she added with a chuckle.   “Oh, and Joshua wants to decorate both you and Dram for bravery as soon and Dram’s recovered enough to stand.”  She pulled out a dermal regenerator and began working on Zarkan’s arm, sterilizing and healing the multitude of cuts left by the gremwings.

Zarkan rolled his eyes and snorted.  “Oh goody, a chance for Joshua to soak up a little glory without putting his life on the line.”

“Don’t be too hard on him, Zar,” Miriam said.  “He actually let you and Dram leave Airlandis and infiltrate Warnado based on some pretty circumspect evidence.”  She worked on him a few more minutes in companionable silence.  “Well, it’s the best I’m going to do without my proper equipment.  I’m slotting you in my schedule first thing tomorrow morning, so I expect you to be there.  Otherwise I know you’d let whatever vulgar pathogens you picked up in Warnado just fester.” 

Miriam began packing up her case.  “Thanks Miri – I owe you one,” Zarkan added before giving his sister a hug.

“Oh, and be sure you see Amod and Nora as well,” Miriam added as she was about to go through the door.  “They were ready to march out after you as soon as they found out you and Dram had left.”

Zarkan smiled.  He couldn’t complain too much about that – after all, he had done the same for his friends under the circumstances.  Still, he wasn’t in the mood to be chastised by his lover and protégé tonight.  Maybe tomorrow they could get in line behind Miri.


	2. I'm Here

Prompt 2: I’m Here

“You’ll take it, Peak, and you’ll like it!” Miriam huffed as she jammed the spoon into the young dragonator’s mouth.  He gagged a little bit, but swallowed the medicine all the same.

Sticking his tongue out, Peak retorted, “Who needs Dread to kill me when I can have you do it?  That stuff tastes like bog water from Old Earth.”

Miriam sniffed and patted Peak’s straw-colored hair before getting up from her seated position on the side of his bio-bed.  “Okay, so the medicine tastes horrible, kiddo, but I will tolerate no mutation reversal on my watch.  So remember if I see a hint of green skin or yellow eyes that I’m going to double your dosage.”  She gave Peak a deliciously evil smile and a stern stare over the rims of her glasses.

It had been three days since Miriam’s brother Zarkan and the Dramen dragonator Dram had rescued Z’neth, Summit, Apex, and Peak from Warnado.  While there, the siblings had been exposed to Dread Wing’s mutein, a substance that used his own genetic code as a basis for mutation.  Dread had sent back four fake corpses in an effort to fool Airlandis into thinking that the Dragon Flyz had been killed, but between her and Aaron the plot had been uncovered and the Dragon Flyz were rescued in a daring midnight raid on Warnado. 

Miriam had sent a mutein-reversal agent along with Zarkan to start the process, but the effects of Dread Wing and Gangryn’s horrific science were buried deeper than she had initially realized.  The Dragon Flyz would be in her lab for at least a week in total before their eventual discharge back into Aaron’s care.

Pouring another dose of the mutein-reversal drug, she handed a spoon to Peak’s sister Apex in the adjacent bio-bed.  “Don’t worry, Miriam, not all of us will be such non-compliant patients,” Apex said before taking her dose without complaint.  “I love flying, but I’m not ready to sprout my own set of wings just yet.”

“Don’t worry, Apex.  I’m sure Miriam can engineer you some lovely wings when you are ready,” the eldest brother, Z’neth quipped before taking his own dose and settling back under the covers.  He turned to Miriam.  “By the way, how is Summit today?”

After a thorough examination of the Dragon Flyz, she and Aaron had found that Summit had received quite a bit more exposure to the mutein than the others.  Consequently, his body was fighting their attempts at reversing the process.  Miriam and Aaron had agreed to put Summit into a life-support capsule that would slow the mutein’s spread and deliver the reversal drugs intravenously.

“Better today.  He drifts in and out of consciousness, though,” Miriam answered.  “I’m on my way to check on him now.”  Miriam turned down the lights in her crowded lab (now stuffed with three bio-beds).  “Good night everyone.  Call me for anything during the night.  Except you Peak.  I’m not delivering food again at oh three hundred.”

“But I was so hungry!  I’m a growing boy!” Peak called out after her.

“Yes, growing rapidly on my nerves!” Miriam shot back.  Z’neth and Apex laughed, and Peak grumbled.  “I’ll see you all in the morning otherwise.”  Miriam exited her laboratory and activated the alarm system.  Activity around Warnado had been quiet lately according to Zarkan, but there was no sense in taking chances in case Dread Wing tried to sneak in and reclaim his prizes. 

As she made her way down the long hallway containing the research laboratories, Miriam thought about how nice it actually was to spend time with her old friends.  While Zarkan got to work with Summit and the others on a regular basis, Miriam’s line of work meant she often didn’t get to see them unless there was an injury.  If she was honest with herself, Miriam realized that she just hadn’t made the time to see them, and had instead allowed herself to get wrapped up in her genetics work.  It was important work, of course, but coming so close to losing the people she considered to be some of her best friends had taught her that life in the forty-second century could be dangerous and fleeting.

Swiping her key card at a door further down the hallway, Miriam entered the room that Summit was being treated in.  Aaron sat asleep at the capsule’s side, his lap and the floor littered with data pads containing unread Skywatch reports.  Did that poor man ever get a break?

“Go to bed, Aaron,” Miriam chided, picking up the data pads on the floor.  “Summit’s not going anywhere, and Skywatch will still be here in the morning.”  She rubbed the older man’s shoulder affectionately.

“Oh, Miriam, I must have dozed off,” Aaron said, taking a hold of the staff that allowed him to levitate and move around despite the serious spinal injury he had sustained a few years back.  “I just have a hard time leaving Summit’s side…” he trailed off, spreading his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

“I know, I know.  But tonight is my night to stay with him.  Besides, you’ll be no good to anyone tomorrow at Skywatch if you look like a Dark Dramen,” she added with a smile.

Aaron chuckled before floating to the doorway.  “Thank you, Miriam.”

“For what?”

Aaron shrugged.  “For everything, I suppose.  But especially for taking care of Summit; for being here.”

Miriam smiled as she lay on the cot beside the life-support capsule, a small blush spreading across her face.  “Well, he means a lot to me too.”

“I think I understand,” Aaron replied, a knowing tone in his voice.  “Good night, my dear.”

“Good night, Aaron.”

As he left, Aaron turned out the lights, leaving Miriam alone with the bluish glow of the capsule.  She hoped to be here when Summit awoke.  Her calculations suggested that enough mutein would be cleared by tomorrow that it was possible he would awaken.  Miriam watched Summit’s slow, even breathing and studied the lines and contours of his face for what seemed an eternity before drifting off into the comfort of dreams.


	3. Funeral

Prompt 3: Funeral

                Aaron rubbed his eyes as he got up from the council meeting.  Damn Joshua and his early-morning meetings.  Aaron had been up half the night looking over dragonator scouting data and Skywatch reports, but his position as head of the Dragonator Corps demanded his presence at the Airlandean Council meetings.

                It didn’t help that today was the anniversary of _that day_.  His greatest failure.

                Seventeen years ago, Aaron had failed to protect the most important person in his life, and it haunted him even today. 

*****

_The sky was dark as a small group gathered on the dragonator launch platform.  Iranda hadn’t been a dragonator, but with all the times she had flown with him, Aaron felt this was the right place to hold the ceremony.  His five children stood around him: Dram, Z’neth holding baby Peak, Summit, and Apex.  Joshua was there as well, along with Orak and the scientist’s nephew and niece Zarkan and Miriam.  Aaron briefly recalled that it had not been long since they had stood here to memorialize their own parents.  Surrounding them were many other dragonators and Iranda’s colleagues from the University._

_Funerals in Airlandis were conducted at the edge of the city, where the body would be committed to the Warp Winds.  There was no body in this case, however, so a hologram of Iranda was substituted in its place.  Aaron found it too difficult to look at the smiling face of his beautiful wife, arrayed in her favorite indigo gown._

_Joshua stepped forward.  “We are gathered here today to remember a mother, wife, friend, and brilliant researcher…”_

*****

Aaron snapped back to reality, and began to gather his things up.

Orak came up and placed a hand on his shoulder.  “Everything okay, Aaron?” the chief engineer asked.

Aaron gave his old friend a weak smile.  “Just a late night last night, I’m afraid.”

“Then why don’t you join me for a cup of coffee in the Replimat?” Orak offered.

Aaron was about to politely decline, but decided at the last minute to accept.  “You know, that sounds nice,” he replied before using his staff to work the hover-belt that allowed him to float.

The two men made amicable conversation as they exited the council chambers and made their way to the Replimat.  Aaron was interested to hear that Orak was experimenting with different methods of crystal energy extraction, and Orak was interested in Aaron’s new dragonator flight plans to increase the city’s crystal cache.

The Replimat was only sparsely occupied this early in the morning – there were plenty of tables left by the large windows where they could watch the clouds blow by.  Aaron and Orak stopped by the beverage station and picked up their coffees before sitting down.

Orak took a sip of his coffee – black, of course – before saying, “I know what day it is today, Aaron.”

*****

                _He had cried during the memorial service, but swore it would be the last time that ever happened in front of his children.  He had to be strong for all of them now.  Aaron thought of his friend Orak raising his sister’s children all alone.  How did you do it?_

_Aaron tucked in Summit and kissed Apex on the cheek before turning down their lights.  He hugged Z’neth and Dram before putting them to bed as well.  Little Peak – only a few months old – had fallen asleep hours ago.  What would life hold for all of them now?_

_Aaron sat at his desk sipping a glass of brandy, trying to drown out the pain that threatened to overwhelm him.  How could Iranda have been so careless!  The holodisk message she had left for them was all he – all any of them – had left of her now.  No home in the far-flung reaches of the galaxy could be more important than the family and love she had here on Airlandis, could it?_

*****

                Aaron paused, his coffee halfway to his mouth.  “I wondered if anyone else remembered,” he said sadly.

                Orak shook his head, and then stared down into his cup as if it contained all the answers.  “Of course I remember, Aaron.  Iranda encouraged me to become an engineer; she was my best friend.  I’ll never forget the day we lost her for as long as I live.”

*****

                _Aaron had decided he would never lose anyone to a false dream again.  Hacking into the Skywatch database, he deleted all information about the star ridge and the ziggurat found within.  He put alert warnings in the dragonator database to steer dragonators away from the area and filed the whole thing under restricted clearance.  Whatever lurked in that building would be left alone from now on._

_Memories of Iranda – her joyous piano music, her headstrong stubborn nature, her belief in the future of mankind – only brought Aaron pain.  He packed up his wife’s last holodisk message to him and the children and put it into his personal vault behind the library._

_Still, as long as a shred of hope existed that she could be alive somewhere in the universe, Aaron would never stop searching for Iranda.  And he would never let her dream of a new home for the human race die._

*****

                “Good morning Father, Orak,” Apex said as she slid into the seat next to Aaron in the Replimat and kissed him on the cheek.  She took a sip of her coffee and added, “How was the Council meeting?”

                “Dull as usual, of course,” Orak quipped as Apex dug into her breakfast. 

                “Good, so my new biosphere modifications should appear much more interesting,” Apex said, sliding a data pad across the table.  She caught the eye of someone across the room and waved.  “Summit, get over here and back me up!”

                Aaron smiled.  Life moved on and children grew and changed and loved.  But one thing would never change: his vow to keep them safe. 


	4. Puppy Love

Prompt 4: Puppy Love

                “Boy, did someone get up on the wrong side of the dragon this morning!” Peak exclaimed as Nora stalked away.  His siblings weren’t helping anything either with their quips that he didn’t know anything about women!  Well…not that they were wrong, but he certainly didn’t need reminding of that fact.

                Peak pouted while Z’neth finished negotiations with the F.I.S.T. Fighters.  Bo-ring.  After being dangled over the lava by the little midgets, Peak didn’t exactly feel magnanimous toward them (even if they were getting a sweet stash of amber crystals as part of the bargain).  So he grabbed a few of the crystals and made his way out of the hidden lair to load up Stormy (and hopefully see if Nora had cooled down yet).

                _I mean, why wouldn’t she like me?_ Peak thought to himself.  _We saved each other’s lives, I love having a good time, and even Z’neth says I’m one of the best dragonators for my age!_

                Peak found Nora loading up her dragon Goliath with a load of the amber crystals.  “Here Nora, let me give you a hand with those,” he offered.

                Nora rolled her eyes.  “Thanks for the offer Peak, but aren’t your arms already full?”  She used her exo-wings to mount Goliath.  “Besides, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not some fledgling dragonator.  I can handle the work just fine.  Please tell Z’neth I went ahead with the first load so as to not keep Orak waiting.”  She gave him a little salute before Goliath launched into the air.

                Peak’s shoulders sagged and he let out a little sigh as she flew off into the distance toward the nearest Wind Pit.  Why was everything so hard with Nora?  All he wanted was the chance to get to know her better.

                “Well little brother, that looked about as uncomfortable as trying to give a lava beast a bubble bath,” Summit said as he slapped Peak on the back.  _Damn – had he been watching the whole time?_ Peak suddenly felt like the evening’s entertainment.

                “Ah, lay off scale-for-brains,” Peak retorted.

                “Well I think you should keep trying, Peak.  Nora’s a nice girl, if a little austere at first glance,” said Apex, butting into the conversation.

                Peak groaned.  “Not you too, Apex!  My love life is neither of your concerns!”

                “Are we talking about Peak’s love life again?” Z’neth asked, emerging from the tunnels.  “I’ve got to admit, Nora’s the full package: brains, beauty, skilled with a Wind Jammer.”

                “Not. Having. This. Conversation.” Peak reiterated, before jumping up onto Wing Storm.  “Get us out of here, Stormy, and fast!”

*****

                Peak tried to catch Nora’s attention in various ways over the next couple of weeks.  Which wasn’t easy – that girl could be harder to track down than a gremwing in a flock!  He invited her to an old holofilm festival, but she ended up being called out for an emergency crystal run.  He got up early (which he despised) to try and catch her in the Replimat for breakfast, but she was just finishing as soon as he arrived.  He even snuck into the Rainforest biosphere and picked an exquisite flower (which turned out to be a terrible idea because she was a stickler for rules, and flatly refused something taken from one of the biospheres).

                So Peak was pretty dejected when the Dragon Flyz were on their latest crystal run, flying through a Wind Pit, and Summit started grilling him on how things were going with Nora.

                “Nothing to tell except a bunch of near-misses,” Peak said.  “She’s been really busy ever since Father moved her into DF Team Three command while Olin’s recovering from those plasma burns.”

                “Think of Nora like Z’neth,” Apex giggled over their private vox channel.  “Single-minded, laser-beam focus, working to the point of forgetting important things like eating.  I mean, Z’neth forgot his own birthday last year.”

                “Thanks for the mental image, sis,” Peak chuckled.  “I always wanted to date my big brother.”

                Z’neth came onto the vox channel.  “Nothing wrong with that,” he said with a chuckle.  “But seriously, Nora might remain in command of Team Three.  I hear Olin is thinking of hanging up his Wind Jammers.  So her time could be at even more of a premium.”

                Peak was shocked.  Had Nora always wanted to go into the command track?  He knew Nora would be a great commander, but the only DF Team Commander he’d ever met who seemed to balance work and life well was Zarkan, and maybe then only because his boyfriend Amod was on his team. 

                The Dragon Flyz put away their discussion as they followed their dragons’ crystal-vibration sensing abilities to a large lava pool that was loaded with amber crystals.  It was an easy drop and shop for a change – double crystals for each of them; Peak was actually disappointed, because he had been hoping to burn off a little of his frustration by smoking some gremwings.

                On the way back to Airlandis, Summit’s voice came across the Vox Box.  “Well if the ladies haven’t been banging down your door little bro, why don’t you try asking Nora to the Dragonator Ball?”

                Of course!  Every year the Dragonator Corps threw a big party in the dragon dock, where everyone put on their dress uniforms and danced the night away.

                “It _is_ the social event of the season, Peak,” Apex reminded him.

                “Wait, do all of you already have dates?” Peak asked with bewilderment.

                “I’m taking Miriam,” Summit answered.

                “And Apex and I are doing each other a favor by going together,” Z’neth answered.  “Though how things end up at the party no one can say for certain.  Apex has been known to dance off into the night with any number of eligible fellows.”

                Apex rolled her eyes on the viewscreen. “And Z’neth has been known to be cornered by council members for hours on end.  I’m staying by you all night Big Z.  You get to protect me from getting hit on all night by every tipsy junior dragonator, and I get to save you from nodding off.”  Turning her attention back to Peak, she added.  “Asking her to the ball really is a marvelous idea, though. It’s your first year as a full-fledged dragonator, so that elevates your status at least a little.  Plus, you’re on Team One.”

                “Yeah, how could she _possibly_ refuse?” Peak said with more than a hint of sarcasm.

                Landing procedures went smoothly when they arrived back at Airlandis, and Orak was delighted with the double crystal haul they had brought him.  Peak left the crystal reactor chamber and went to take care of Stormy before heading off to grab a bite for dinner.  When he arrived at Stormy’s stall, however, he found Nora there patting the purple dragon’s snout.

                “Peak!” she said cheerily.

                “Um, hi Nora,” he answered warily.  “What can I do for you?”

                Placing her arms akimbo, she looked Peak straight in the eye and asked, “How about being my date for the Dragonator Ball?”

                Peak quirked an eyebrow.  “Did Summit and Apex put you up to this?” he asked warily.

                Confusion spread across her face, followed by irritation.  “No!  Why would they?”

                Peak waved his hands.  “Uh, never mind that.  But if I can ask, why the sudden change of heart?”

                Nora huffed.  “Well, to be honest I think the whole Ball is kind of silly.  I’ve actually never gone, but since I’m the acting Team Three head it’s now a requirement.”

                “Goody.  I’m glad I can help with a requirement,” Peak said.

                “Ooo-kay,” Nora replied.  “Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.  Sorry to waste your time, Peak.”  She spun on her heel and started to leave.

                He grabbed her hand before she could leave Stormy’s stall.  “Just answer me this: why ask me?”

                Nora shrugged.  “Because you know how to have a good time.  Listen, Peak: I’m pretty much a workaholic.  I haven’t made that many friends among the other dragonators, and I know that most people think I’m a cold-hearted witch.  Except maybe you.  So if I have to go, I’d like it to be with someone who can have fun…and maybe show me how to have a little as well.”

                Peak smiled.  “Then you’ve got yourself a date.”


	5. Gloves

Prompt 5: Gloves

                Orak opened the crystal reactor chamber and plucked the hot, cracked crystal out of its setting, glad for the thousandth time that day for the shed dragonskin gloves Zarkan had given him last year.  They were excellent insulators, but allowed enough dexterity for even the finer manipulations his job often required. 

                “Load ‘em up, boys,” Orak told his team, who were taking three new crystals from the extra storage department.  He made his way to the control center.  “We’re dropping to 1300 VPS, boys – speed it up!  The last thing we need is an airquake!” he barked.

                Orak breathed a mental sigh of relief once the three new crystals were in place and his velociwhirl per second meter registered the standard 1500 VPS he liked to see.  Each batch of crystals was good anywhere from eight to twelve hours, so he went through this song and dance routine up to three times a day (or more if those darn dragonators brought him a bum batch of crystals).

                Moving on to check his storage supply, Orak frowned.  Only five crystals left; he’d better contact Aaron and review the dragonator launch schedule a little later.  But at the moment Orak was starving.

                “All right you rivetheads,” he told his crew.  “I’m going to grab some lunch – if I see my soup so much as jiggle you’re all going to be doing a maintenance sweep!”  Sometimes Orak thought he lived for the terrified looks he could provoke from his workers.

                Feeling inordinately satisfied with himself, Orak sauntered down the hallway to the Replimat.  Grabbing a tray, he picked out the corn chowder from the selection available, which poured into a bowl.  Food in Airlandis was an interesting thing – they grew what they could in the Aeroponics bays, but often had to use matter resynthesizers to change organic material gathered from Old Earth (not the dragonators’ favorite job) into something non-toxic and actually edible.  Most meals were taken communal style in the Replimat, though most living quarters came equipped with beverage dispensers.

                Orak took his tray and looked around for an open seat.  The Replimat was usually crowded around the midday meal, and today was no exception.  At the other end of the room, he spied Summit and Apex leaving a table where they had been sitting with their father Aaron and Orak’s niece Miriam.  Orak made his way over to the table while Miriam was in the middle of a heated discussion with Aaron.

                "I don't see why this isn't the right time," she said, nearly slamming her plasteel mug on the table.  "If not now, when?"

                Aaron shook his head.  "We simply don't have the resources to allocate at this time Miriam."

                Now Orak was interested.  "Resources for what?" he asked.

                "I want to head up a research mission to Old Earth," Miriam said.

                "And I can't spare the dragonators for field research.  Crystal runs have been tight lately - keeping Airlandis aloft is more important than any field research."

                Miriam looked thoughtful for a moment.  "What about a Strato-Glider, then?"

                Orak chuckled at the foolishness of the idea.  "You'd be torn apart trying to cross the Warp Winds, Miriam.  Strato-Gliders were never designed to undergo that kind of stress."

                "What about trying to maneuver one through a Wind Pit?" she pressed.

                "Dragonators have enough trouble making it through those mazes," Aaron said.  “The chances of a Strato-Glider making it through in one piece are quite slim.”

                Miriam sighed and crossed her arms, clearly frustrated at the roadblocks the two men were throwing in her path.  "It's just...we haven't launched a major research mission belowclouds since we lost Iranda.  And now that I know there's a possibility that she's alive...it just seems right to continue her work."

                Aaron placed a hand on her arm.  "You know that I – more than anyone – want to drop everything and search for Iranda and the Promised Land I saw in my youth.  But we still have our duties and the city to provide for.  It would be plainly irresponsible to do otherwise," he said sadly.

                "Not to mention we not only lost Iranda, but the _Aristotle_ as well," Orak added.  "She was a great research ship, and probably torn to scrap by the Dark Dramen."

                Miriam brightened at the mention of Airlandis' old science vessel.  "Why don't we build another, then?  An _Aristotle_ Mark Two?"

                Orak whistled.  That _would_ take some serious resource allocation.  "We'd have to get council approval for the resources in the levels you're suggesting.  Remember that it took me ages to get the materials to build the _Scavenger_ andthe Warp Cannon."

                "Resounding successes, both of them," Aaron teased.

                Orak bristled at the jab.  "The Scavenger worked perfectly, if I remember correctly," he challenged.  "It was your dragons that caused the ruckus."

                "Now boys, putting aside past problems," Miriam suggested, "what are we suggesting?”

                Aaron tugged absently at the end of his beard.  “Fully stocked laboratories, naturally.”

                “Plenty of room for sample storage,” Miriam agreed, nodding her head.

                _Scientists,_ Orak moaned to himself.  _Couldn’t they think of anything more exciting than laboratories?_ He would obviously have to take charge of this discussion.

                “That’s great you two.  Why don’t you just set up a lab on Old Earth and have Dread Wing beating down your door within a week?”  Orak pulled out the data pad he always kept in his work coat and began sketching.  “No, what we need are threefold: a plasteel shell for strength and durability in order to pass through the warp winds, a couple of really high-power Wind Jammers to keep the kooks away, and a power source that will allow for far-flung expeditions.  Amber crystals, of course.”

                “That means you would need a team of dragonators to gather the amber periodically,” Aaron offered.  “They could also provide protection if the need arose.”

                Orak continued his sketch, adding four perches atop the ship.  “Dragon-powered flight as well in emergency situations.”

                “What kind of crew would we be talking about then in addition to a squadron of dragonators?” Miriam asked.

                “Four researchers, including the pilot,” Orak said.  “The accommodations might be a little cramped otherwise.”

                Miriam and Aaron were practically drooling over his brilliant design.  Well, obviously it was brilliant: Orak himself had designed it.

                “I’d like to bring this before the Council at the earliest opportunity,” Miriam said.  “Can I count on both of your support for this?”

                “Of course,” said Aaron.  “Being able to assign one team of Dragonators to the project won’t be as much of a problem as continually running researchers.  Plus, if Orak can make good on his claims regarding this ship’s potential firepower…”

                “Which I obviously can,” Orak snorted.

                “…then it could open up whole new avenues for exploration for Airlandis,” Aaron finished.  “Our greatest hindrance to exploration and mapping has always been the city’s need to remain in sectors close to known Amber beds.  A self-sustaining mobile investigational research facility rather neatly solves that problem.”

                Orak looked down at his chronometer and was shocked that he’d been gone for a couple of hours.  “Well, if I don’t get back to the crystal reactors soon, those yahoos are likely to let the city start falling out of the sky.”

                “Naturally, Uncle,” Miriam said, grazing him on the cheek with a kiss.

                Orak sent the design sketches to Miriam and Aaron’s data pads before leaving, and they all agreed to meet up later that evening and hammer out more of the details for the Mark Two.  For the first time in ages Orak was really excited.  It had been a crushing blow to lose the _Scavenger_ on its first mission, and Orak would be lying to himself if he didn’t feel the slightest bit of betrayal that the dragonators and dragons had overall been so against his idea.  But this was something different – truly man and dragon working together to find a new home for them all.


	6. Blackboard

Prompt 6: Blackboard

                He had faced down Dread Wing countless times, flown hundreds of successful missions to Old Earth, and beaten off the worst of the worst.  He was Dragonator One, a symbol of leadership and solidarity in the Airlandis community.

                So why was Z’neth so terrified of a bunch of kids?

                Looking at the class of junior dragonators before him, Z’neth felt his knees go weak.  He would rather face a horde of flesh-eating gremwings than supervise the yearly ritual of “First Flight.”  Usually, he had Apex to help him out, and he could just stand around and be inspiring or whatever it was people thought he was.  But this year she had gotten tied up in some insane secret project with their father Aaron, Orak, and Miriam.  Summit was handling council duty today for Aaron, and Z’neth really didn’t think it prudent to expose the children to Peak.  So he was it.

                Z’neth looked over the five youngsters seated before him.  (When had he started to think of the junior dragonators as _youngsters_?  Just a few years ago Peak and Nora had been in those seats.  By Riptor’s wings, he was getting old.)  Tommy and Lucy were there; Lucy had bonded with Clawfire, finally ending the speculation as to which of the two children he would choose.  But Tommy didn’t have much time to be sad, as Sky Fury’s cub Icefire chose him soon after.

                Z’neth cleared his throat before addressing the children.  “Welcome to your day of First Flight, junior dragonators.  Some of you,” he looked pointedly at Tommy and Lucy, “have flown a dragon before, but today is the day you will first put together your dragonator Exo-Wing and Wind Jammer training with dragon riding.  And I will remind you it’s much harder than it looks.”

                He walked to the front of the small lecture hall, and picked up the first of five helmets laid out before them.  As he called each of their names, each of the new dragonators came forward to accept the official symbol of their new profession.  “Your helmet is your lifeline,” Z’neth said.  It connects you to your fellow dragonators and Skywatch.  It contains a homing beacon that can be traced by every dragonator, along with telescopic and night vision filters.”  Z’neth demonstrated by activating the very technical-looking visor that covered his eyes.

                After going through a very dull refresher on the vox-box, exo-wings, and wind jammer safety, Z’neth decided to get the kids out into the fresh air.  Maybe he would wake up too.

                Standing on the golden promontory that served as the dragonators’ main take-off and landing strip, Z’neth led the juniors in a chorus of “Dragon Flyz, Maximize!”  Exo-wings appeared from the backs of six flight suits as they took to the skies.  Z’neth heard a familiar roar of greeting as his big blue dragon Riptor flew out to meet them, trailing Clawfire and the other young dragons.

                “Dragonators, mount your dragons!” he called out.

                It wasn’t a pretty sight.  Lucy completely overshot Clawfire and smacked into one of the other dragonators, sending them both spiraling out of control, while Icefire got spooked and flashed another dragon with his freezing breath (Z’neth was reminded yet again how much he wanted to punch Gangryn for genetically messing with Sky Fury’s cub).  Z’neth dove after Lucy and her peer, while Riptor marshaled the two dragons into some semblance of order.

                “Well, that was…interesting,” Z’neth commented.  He could hear the crowd up in Skywatch practically splitting with laughter at the mess in front of them.  “All right; back in formation, Flyz!” he ordered.

                The junior dragonators scrambled to follow his commands.  After a few minutes they were (mostly) all seated appropriately on their dragons.  Z’neth sighed.  How did Apex go through this every year?

                He paired them off (taking Lucy to work with himself), and had them practice flying formations and drills to get comfortable on their scalebacks.  “Your dragon is your greatest ally!  You are nominally in control, but trust their instincts.  Riptor has saved my life on many occasions.”  Riptor let out a roar in affirmation.  After a half hour more of practice, they were at least all sitting correctly.

                “Let’s try something a little different for your First Flight,” Z’neth told the group over his vox-box.  “Skywatch, do you detect any activity beneath us that would suggest mutants or Dark Dramen?”

                “Negative, Dragonator One,” Skywatch answered.  “You’ve got clear skies beneath you.”

                “Good.  I’m taking the junior dragonators below for a bit through the nearest Wind Pit.  We shouldn’t be down long – an hour at the most.  Z’neth out.”

                “Z’neth, are you sure it’s really okay for us to go down there?” Tommy asked.  “Not that I’m scared or anything!”

                “Tommy, don’t be a hatchling!” Lucy scoffed.  “Z’neth is the best dragonator there is.  Even if we did run into Dread Wing, the cragface wouldn’t stand a chance.”

                Z’neth shook his head.  “Never underestimate you opponents, Lucy.  Especially Dread Wing.  He hasn’t held Warnado for twenty-five years based on his good looks.”  Changing the subject, Z’neth said, “All right, Flyz – we move single file through the Wind Pits.  Always keep the person in front of you in your sights, and maintain an open vox channel at all times.  Now follow Riptor.”

                Riptor plunged into the open maw of the Wind Pit, and Z’neth tasted his first whiff of the rot and decay that characterized Old Earth.  Riptor moved with ease through the honeycombed Wind Pit, though he agreed with Z’neth to take it slow in order to allow the junior dragonators to follow easily.  As the group moved toward the Wind Pit’s base, the air became hot and fetid, burning Z’neth’s eyes and nose.

                Spying the light that signified an opening in the mountain’s base, Z’neth directed Riptor through it and into the largest grouping of lavabeasts Z’neth had ever seen.

                “Pull up!” Z’neth commanded his dragonators.  But it was too late.  Tommy and the girl following him spiraled out of control at the sight of the fearsome lavabeasts.  They became entangled and crashed on the shore of the lava pit.

                “Dragonator down!  I repeat, dragonator down!” Z’neth yelled into his vox box.  Lavabeasts were making their way toward the downed dragons and their riders.  Z'neth tapped his gauntlet, activating the Wind Jammer.  Aiming carefully, he fired several warning shots into the lava beasts in an effort to turn them away from the junior dragonators.

                Activating his exo-wings, Z'neth flew off of Riptor, who flew close to the lavabeasts, warding them off.  Z'neth angled toward the children.  How could he have been so careless to have let this happen?  He was supposed to be more responsible, dammit!  If anything happened to his charges, he wasn't sure what he would do.

                Landing by the junior dragonators, he held Tommy's face in his hands.  Good, they were both breathing.  "All right, Tom, chin up, stay with me now!" Z'neth practically yelled as the young boy drifted in and out of consciousness.  Z'neth synced their helmets, reading out the medical statistics that Tommy's helmet recorded.  The boy's leg was broken, but thankfully there didn't seem to be any internal injuries or cranial bleeds. 

                Riptor and the other dragons forced the lava beasts away as Z'neth examined the girl.  She was in worse shape with both a broken arm and a lung that looked on the verge of collapse.  Shit.  Working fast, he secured her helmet into oxygenation mode and shut the faceplate.  Z'neth didn't want to transport either of them in their current condition without a medic looking at them.  Reaching into Icefire's saddle pack, Z'neth removed two sublingual pain tablets and placed them under Tommy and the girl's tongues.  They dissolved instantly, and Z'neth could see the two youngster’s bodies relax.

                "Z'neth, what happened to Tommy and Ava?" Lucy said, breathless as she ran up.

                "The situation isn't good," he answered.  "Tommy has a broken leg, but Ava is worse off.  She'll need a medical capsule for safe transport back to Airlandis."  He opened a channel to Skywatch and communicated the situation to them.  They said they would send a dragonator and a medic team with a capsule immediately, but that the Warp Winds had swallowed the Wind Pit entrance they had gone through initially.  The next closest one would add at least three hours to the journey.

                Lucy started to cry then, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.  Z'neth put a hand on her shoulder.  "There will be time enough for that later, Lucy.  Right now Tommy and Ava need us."

                She nodded without speaking before wiping her face.  Z'neth turned to the two boys.  "All right gentlemen, I need you to scout the perimeter for any signs of Dark Dramen, mutants, or lavabeast activity.  Can you do that?"

                "Yes sir!" they replied in unison before hopping onto their dragons and taking off in an ever-widening circle around the group.

                Z'neth looked at the desolation surrounding them, hoping to find shelter of some sort for their group.  He spied what appeared to be a small cave not far away.  Too small for the dragons, but plenty large enough to get their injured teammates under cover.  "Lucy, help me move these two to that cave."  She nodded, and they assembled a field stretcher out of Lucy's saddle.  Z'neth carefully moved the two children onto the saddle, and they dragged it over the rough terrain to the cave mouth.  Z'neth switched on his helmet's lamp and scouted the cave, making sure it was clear of gremwings or any other nasty surprises.

                "Looks clear, Lucy.  Let's bring them in," Z'neth said.  After they were all settled, Z'neth communicated their location to Airlandis and the two junior dragonators scouting in the field.  They and their dragons hadn't spotted anything, so Z'neth recalled them and stood guard himself.

                The minutes seemed to stretch into hours as the junior dragonators huddled in the cave, with Z'neth standing guard outside.  The reek of decay and death that Old Earth always had was ever present.

                "Z'neth, will they be okay?" Lucy asked.

                He simply shrugged in response.  "I don't know for certain.  But they are strong, and their dragons are with them.  Remember that things like this can happen when you choose a life of service to Airlandis as a dragonator."

                The children wore somber expressions as they digested that fact.  Z’neth tried distracting them for a while with stories of battles against Dread Wing and the mutants, which at the very least perked the children up, and they peppered him with questions.

                “Dragonator One, come in,” a voice crackled to life on Z’neth’s vox box.  “Please give us your position.”

                “This is Dragonator One!” Z’neth said, excited that help was close at hand.  “We’re in a cave at the west end of the lava pit.  You should be able to see Riptor quite easily.”

                “Confirmed.  We are preparing for landing,” the voice replied.

                Z’neth dusted himself off and scanned the sky for a scaleback.  Off in the distance, he could make out a brown smudge.  Z’neth guided them in with a flash from his Wind Jammer.  As the dragon got closer, Z’neth saw that it was Shockfire and Dram carrying a medic and the medical transport capsule.  Z’neth felt he was never quite so glad to see his big brother as he was at that moment.

                Shockfire made a smooth landing, and Dram came down and helped load the two children into the capsule, which immediately began the healing process as directed by the medic.  Dram passed out some rations to the remaining kids, who devoured them eagerly.

                “Well Z’neth, I see you’ve finally made a mess of something,” Dram chided.  “Peak would be most proud of you.”

                Z’neth rolled his eyes.  “Let’s see how well he does next year.  I’m giving _him_ this assignment.  Character building and all that.”

                As the group loaded up onto their dragons and secured the medical capsule on Shockfire, one of the boys asked a question.  “Z’neth, why would anyone choose to be a dragonator, knowing all the terrible things that can happen down here?  Why not stay in Airlandis where it’s safe?”

                Z’neth smiled at him as he mounted Riptor.  “Because you get the chance to fly.”


	7. Muse

Prompt 7: Muse

                The wind howled with unabated fury, tearing at his cloak and trying to dig its way into any exposed surface of his skin.  Sandstorms were a common thing in these hellish deserts.  They scoured the mountains into dust, and carved great valleys.  But this storm was particularly brutal, and it matched Cifex’s mood perfectly.

                He could remember everything – the machine that built him, the technicians who repaired him after every mission, the comrades he had lost in the war.  And of course Cifex remembered the Great Cataclysm of the 31st century.  How the skies across the Earth had turned bright, then black as night.  How earthquakes and tsunamis demolished every coastline across the world.  The fields full of the dead.

                And the mutants.  He could never forget the mutants born of the Cataclysm, for they plunged what was left of the world into an everlasting hell.

                The wars had always been between those who viewed technology as the key to progress and enlightenment, and those who sought perfection through genetic engineering.  Cifex was a so-called “genetic construct” – though he was covered in synthetic flesh, his bones were bio-alloy and his brain a neuroprocessor.  He had fought with thousands of android soldiers who shared his face for ideals he was programmed to believe, cutting down “genetic freaks” like wheat in a field.

                But the Cataclysm had put an end to all of that.  His memory files didn’t say who was responsible, and now more than a thousand years later, Cifex found he didn’t much care.  Cifex didn’t remember how long he spent in the bunker fighting off mutants and other creatures who ventured too close.  But he was certain he had to have spent at least part of that millennium in a stasis tube.  Without anyone to repair him, Cifex had transferred his neural net and memory engrams from shell to shell until something had gone corrupt and caused him to forget that he had never been a human.

                And then he had met her, and everything changed.  Cifex’s hand moved instinctively to his pocket, feeling the dried petals of the flower he had found in the desert upon awakening in the last of the android bodies.  He was lucky his emergency neural net transfer protocols were still in place, or he would have died on top of Warnado, burnt by Blackheart’s flame.

                Maybe it would have been better that way.  Or maybe it would have been better that those Dark Dramen killed him in the desert before they had met.  Better than to have hurt Apex.

                Though he never truly slept, sometimes Cifex could have sworn he dreamed of her.  Her auburn hair hovering around her face underwater in the ocean biosphere, her fuchsia lips tugging to one side in a wicked grin.  He tried to tell himself it was better this way, as he had told her at their parting; the truth was she had shown him what it meant to live, and Cifex would carry her face with him as long as he wandered the desolate remains of Old Earth.

                Cifex had made it his mission in life to seek out any remaining human survivors on Old Earth.  He knew the Dragon Flyz were busy gathering amber crystals to keep the city of Airlandis afloat; that the scouting mission they had found him on had almost been a fluke.  Apex had told him all about the Airlandean’s search for a new terrestrial homeland; their near misses like the beautiful valley and Mount Alayas.  And she told him of the daring Captain Elias Bristol who had spoken of an oasis twenty-five years after the Cataclysm, and of her father’s glimpse of such a place in his youth.

                Cifex thought that if he could find some way to help Apex – help humanity – he might in some way atone for his past atrocities.  He might be worthy of Apex’s love.

                And along the way, he would destroy any remaining 30th century weaponry he came across.  Better that the world never have access to that kind of destructive force ever again.

                The bunker where he had spent the better part of a millennium was only one of a series of military buildings.  Cifex had downloaded all pertinent data he could recover from the bunker’s computer system, then used a plasma grenade to blow it up.  He would never go back.

                Cifex walked for days through the burning deserts, his hooded cloak hiding his human semblance from any passing mutants and Dark Dramen.  Cifex knew he was slowly but surely making his way to the main compound where he had been stationed.  There, he hoped to pick up some kind of vehicle to speed his travels and offer some kind of protection from the elements.

                When he saw the tops of the buildings emerging from the sand, at first he almost believed it to be a mirage.  Closer inspection proved that acquiring a vehicle would not be as simple as he had previously thought.  The compound had had over a thousand years to be buried by the shifting sands of the desert.  Cifex frowned, unsure of how to access the building’s interior.  He searched for some time, finally locating an access hatch on the roof of one of the buildings. 

                The keypad and electronics that had given the lock power were long since dead.  Using a laser cutter he had taken from the bunker, Cifex sliced through the access hatch’s locking mechanism, then used his hands to pull back the door on completely rusted hinges.

                The interior of the structure was dark and forbidding, and Cifex felt lucky that he didn’t require oxygen, as the air was still and undisturbed for centuries.  Cifex activated his sonar mapping system, which sent out periodic energy pulses that reflected the tomography of the building as he moved through it.  When he had first arrived here as a combat android, Cifex had seen very little of the command center before he was shipped off to areas of heavy fighting.

                Strangely, Cifex found the metallic hallways and severe design choices somewhat…comforting?  If not that, then nostalgically familiar at the very least.  Airlandis had been all curving lines and tall shapes.  Here, things were regimented and squared off.  Military precision at every turn.

                After hours of exploration and mapping, Cifex reached what he believed to be the compound’s command center.  It was laid out in a circle surrounding a central holo-unit used for viewing the battles.  Using a few spare power cells he had recovered, Cifex booted up one of the computer terminals and began his search.  _Oasis,_ not unexpectedly, brought up no results pertinent results.  _Galileo_ got him several hits on the space station, which he downloaded to his central data storage unit.  _Military installations_ got him so many results he didn’t even know where to begin, though most of the data required a far higher clearance level than he had ever possessed.  Cifex tried accessing the military satellites that he knew had been in use during the 30 th century, only to find that he could not make contact with any of them.  They had likely all crashed into the Warp Winds centuries ago.

                Trying another search for _Settlements_ was like finding a gold mine.  Complete with latitude and longitudinal coordinates, he had found a list of all known human settlements left in the wake of the Great Cataclysm.  Oddly, he had also found references to a _Starship Explorer,_ which sounded fascinating.  Downloading the information to his central storage unit, Cifex set the computer to calculate a pathway to exploring as many of them as possible.

                While the terminal processed his request, Cifex began his search for transportation.  Something that ran on amber crystals would have been prime, considering their abundance on Old Earth’s surface.  But that kind of technology had been science fiction in the 30th century.  Cold fusion had been the technology du jour of the day.  Cifex located the hangar and made his way down.

                The hangar was a huge building with a ceiling that opened to the sky (Cifex hoped it still did, anyway, and that he wouldn’t have tons of sand pouring in on top of him).  Looking over the vehicles that were still left, his steel heart sank a little.  Most were rusted-out hulks, and whatever wasn’t was obviously battle damaged.  The best had likely been taken in whatever evacuation the compound had gone through.  But back in the corner, a glint caught his eye.  Picking his way through the wreckage, Cifex found a small four-soldier hovercraft that appeared to be in working order.  Opening up the back, he found he was in luck!  The cold fusion reactor was still operational.

                Cifex returned to the command center and collected his downloaded data.  At the last minute he grabbed a stray holocube and downloaded a mental image he had saved of Apex.  It projected the image in crystal clarity, and for a moment Cifex forgot that he was alone.

                Turning off the cube with a sigh, Cifex stuffed it into his pocket and started back to his hovercraft.  He would not fail Apex and the people of Airlandis.  A stray bit of poetry ran through his head:

                _”But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep_

_… And miles to go before I sleep.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for the poetry bit goes to Robert Frost, of course. "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening."


	8. Magic

Prompt 8: Magic

"Hold still Z’neth," Apex muttered as she adjusted her older brother's dress uniform.  She adjusted the high collar, and pinned her brother’s V-shaped lapel pin to his sash.  Stepping back, Apex surveyed her handiwork.  “Well, I think you look almost presentable now,” she said with a chuckle.

“Ha ha, sis.” Z’neth said, rolling his eyes at her.  His look softened as he added, “But thank you.  By the way, you look lovely yourself.”

Apex smiled.  “You like it?  I based the design on the dress mother was wearing in that holo message.”  Wearing something like her mother – something flowing and gorgeous – was a change for Apex, who usually dressed down.  But tonight for the Dragonator Ball, Apex had the desire to glam it up a little.  Z’neth picked up her sash from the settee, and helped her into it.

“And now you both look very official,” their father, Aaron, said, floating into the room, already in his dress uniform.  He took Apex’s hand and gave her a twirl.  She relished the way her gown swished and sparkled.  “Dragonator One and Two never looked as quite as distinguished, I think,” he said with a smile.

“Maybe it’s Z’neth’s hair,” Apex offered.  “It was getting a bit long, you know.”  Apex felt a small amount of victory tonight, as she had finally gotten all three of her brothers to get proper haircuts.  They all looked rather dashing now, she thought.

Aaron cleared his throat.  “I wanted to give you something tonight, Apex.  Something that was your mother’s.  It never felt right to take out before, but I was hoping you might wear it tonight, so that she would be with us in at least some small way.” 

Aaron held out a small antique wooden chest.  Apex slowing opened it, inhaling the scent.  Inside were a beautiful diamond necklace and a pair of white opera gloves.  “Oh Father, are you sure?” she asked apprehensively.

“So long as you don’t spill punch on them, I think,” Z’neth said.  He took out the necklace and gingerly clasped it around Apex’s neck, where it glimmered like a million tiny stars.  When combined with the gloves, it added just the right elegant touch.

Apex saw tears at the corner of her Father’s eyes.  She embraced him, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.  “Thank you Father.”  Taking one of his arms, she held the other to Z’neth.  “Well, my wonderful gentlemen, shall we be on our way?  I’m afraid the best part of the evening might already be over, seeing as how we’ll be trapped making small talk for hours from this point forward, but at least we all look dashing.”

 

* * *

 

                Summit tugged on his dress shirt as he stood in front of Miriam’s apartment.  Why was he so nervous?  He had known Miriam forever – what was there to be nervous about?  Holding the rose he had gotten permission to pick (from his own father’s garden), Summit knocked on the door.

                “It’s open – come on in!” he heard a muffled voice through the plasteel door.

                The door opened with a whoosh and Summit stepped into Miriam’s apartment.  It was cozy and stuffed with oversize furniture.  Summit heard wonderful twenty-third century jazz playing in the background, and started tapping his toe to the beat.  Looking around, however, he didn’t see anyone.

                “Miriam?” he called out.

                “I’m here,” she said, rounding the corner as she put in her earrings.  Summit’s breath was almost taken away.  She was wearing a glittering champagne colored tulle gown that offset her nut-brown skin beautifully.  A gold sash was tied at her waist, and she had put her hair up in a bun.

                Miriam looked over her glasses at him.  “What’s wrong, Summit?  Is this a bad color?”

                His face reddened.  “N-not at all, Miriam.  You look lovely.”  Suddenly remembering the red rose he had brought, he handed it to her.  “This is for you,” he said.

                Miriam’s face brightened.  “Why thank you!”  She inhaled the rose’s scent deeply.  “Such a rare and beautiful thing for me?  You really shouldn’t have, but I shall try to be a worthy date for it!”  Stopping to look in a small mirror by the door, Miriam fixed the rose into her hair.  She gave him a small smirk as she turned around.  “You know, you clean up quite nicely as well, and the new haircut is rather dashing, I must say,” she said, running a finger along his swept back white-blonde locks, causing Summit to blush again.

                Miriam took his offered arm, and they started making their way down to the dragon dock, greeting other dragonators and their dates on the way.  Summit stole glances down at Miriam as they strolled along the promenade.  How had he never noticed how beautiful she was?

                They were greeted at the entrance by the Guardian Dragons, who let them pass, and inside the hall by Z’neth, Apex, and Aaron, doing their official leadership greeting to everyone who entered.

                Summit saw Miriam look around in delight.  The entire dragon dock had been transformed into an elegant ballroom, complete with a fantastic holo-orchestra Summit had found in one of his Mother’s old files.  Stars shone through the open roof, and Summit was surprised that Z’neth had somehow convinced Orak to install water fountains in what were normally the dragons’ water troughs.

                Summit got them two glasses of champagne, and he and Miriam made the rounds chatting to different people.  He spied Peak sitting forlornly in a corner, Zarkan and Amod already dancing, and Dram loading up at the buffet.

                Setting down their finished glasses, Summit took Miriam’s hand as a waltz began.  “May I have this dance?” he asked, before they swept onto the dance floor.

 

* * *

 

                Peak had already gone through two glasses of punch, and he was getting restless.  Where the heck was Nora?  Surely she hadn’t stood him up?  Peak mentally groaned as he saw Summit and Miriam enter, both looking awesomely decked out.  He hated to admit it, but Z’neth and Apex looked great too.

                Okay, so maybe Apex had been right about the haircuts after all.  Still, Peak wasn’t a fan of the dress uniform.  The stupid collar was so high!

                Peak made his way across the room back toward the buffet, where Dram was loading a plate.  “Hey Big D, anything good?” he asked.

                Dram looked Peak over, raising an eyebrow at him.  “You look terrible, my brother.  Perhaps it may be time to go easy on the punch?”

                “You have no idea, Big D,” Peak agreed, before moving away.  He wandered the periphery of the room for a bit, talking to a few other dragonators, but his mind wasn’t there.  Peak was just about to leave the party when he spied a head of long red hair entering the room.

                “Nora!” he called out as he saw her moving in the opposite direction.  She spun around and gave him a smile; Peak felt like he was wearing the biggest doofus grin on his face, but somehow didn’t care.  As they moved closer together from across the room, Peak saw that unlike most of the ladies, Nora was wearing a dress uniform, though she had a skirt instead of slacks.  Somehow, Peak thought it suited her perfectly.

                “Sorry I’m so late Peak,” Nora apologized.  “I haven’t worn my dress uniform since being sworn into the Dragonator Corps, and I had forgotten where I put it!” she said with a laugh.

                “Well, you look amazing in it – it’s a shame you haven’t come to this more often,” Peak said with a grin, escorting Nora to a small table before getting them both punch.  They made small talk for a little while, greeting fellow dragonators (most of whom seemed surprised to see Nora there).

                “You know, it’s not nearly as bad as I thought,” Nora confided in him as Apex and Z’neth walked away from their table after resting for a couple dance numbers, then promptly got cornered by a few of the Council members.  She placed a hand on his, sending an electric tingle through Peak’s arms.  “I think that’s probably due to the company.”

                “You’re not nearly as standoffish as you claim, y’know,” Peak teased.  “Why, I’ve even seen you crack a smile or two!”

                “Better report my aberrant behavior to Skywatch,” she shot right back, before they both cracked up.  Suddenly getting serious again, she asked, “How about a dance, Peak?”

                “I thought you’d never ask,” Peak replied as they moved out onto to dance floor.  Where both of them promptly discovered that they were terrible at dancing.  How in dragondom did Summit and Z’neth make it look so easy? 

After stepping on each other’s toes for two numbers, they decided to take a break, and wandered out onto the dragon launch platform.  The cool night air was refreshing, and Peak stood at the railing with Nora in companionable silence, looking down at the swirling Warp Winds illuminated by the glowing disk of the full moon.

Suddenly, Nora grabbed his shoulders and spun Peak around before pressing her lips to his in a kiss.  Peak felt fireworks go off in his brain, and leaned in to the kiss.

Peak’s face was burning when they pulled away, both suddenly embarrassed and staring at the floor.  “Any particular reason for that?” he asked.  “Not that I’m complaining!” he added quickly as Nora gave him a worried look.

“Consider it a thank you, I suppose,” Nora said.  “For coming with me.”

Peak touched her face gently.  “Suppose I would love another thank you?”

Nora gave him a wry smirk as she grabbed his hand.  “I think that can be arranged.”


	9. Clean

Prompt 9: Clean

                “Well, that concludes our meeting today,” Joshua said, addressing the Airlandean Council.  “Remember that by the end of the week we’ll be going over biannual department reports, so prepare for a long session.” 

                Chairs swiveled as the council members rose from their seats and made their way out of the room.  Aaron and Miriam left, excitedly talking about more plans for the _Aristotle_.  Joshua had to admit, he was excited for the new ship as well, though if the dragons pitched a fit and trashed it like they had done to the resources-heavy _Scavenger_ , Joshua thought he might have a brain aneurysm.

                Rubbing his eyes, Joshua got up from his chair.  By all above, he was tired.  He’d barely been home all week because of work, and his wife Rahab was getting irritated.  She usually quite understood the time demands presented by Joshua’s busy schedule and position, but every so often being the Head Councilman’s wife didn’t sit well with her.

The Minister of Education caught him for a few minutes in the hallway, and they discussed a few ideas she had for bringing scientific education in a more comprehensive way to the children.  Joshua bade her farewell outside his office door before stepping into his private domain.  The Council façade dropped, and Joshua slumped in his chair, just feeling tired. 

He was celebrating ten years of leading Airlandis soon and at least fourteen or fifteen years of serving on the Council since he was elected Minister of Health.  Had it really been that long?  Joshua had sailed past forty a few years ago without even realizing it.

With a groan, he got up from his chair and shuffled over to his beverage station.  One of the perks of being Council Head, he mused.

“Tea, Earl Grey, hot,” he said to the computer, who produced the cup and filled it with the desired beverage.  Joshua took a few moments to inhale the scent of bergamot and take a few sips of this daily pleasure he had grown quite used to.

“Computer, please bring up my schedule for the afternoon,” Joshua said, settling back down at his desk.  His mind drifted for a moment as the white clouds blew by his windows.

Joshua did a double take and nearly spit out his tea as he turned back to his schedule.  It was blank.  The entire afternoon was clear of any appointments, meetings, or briefings.  Was this someone’s idea of a practical joke?  Erasing his schedule was an infantile move to make.

“Computer, please tell me who made the last revisions to this schedule, and when,” Joshua said, irritation tinting his voice.

“Last changes made by Councilman Joshua approximately one year ago,” the computer replied.

Joshua was stunned.  Had he purposefully left his schedule blank, or was it some kind of freak accident?  Well, he would just work in his office the rest of the day.  “Computer, please bring up any remaining projects that need my attention,” he said.

“Negative.  There are no projects currently in need of Council approval or overview,” the computer answered.

 Joshua sipped his tea in silence for a few minutes.  Well, this was certainly bizarre.  Joshua always had his hands in many of the projects that went on in Airlandis.  And he liked it that way.

Well, if he had nothing to do here for the rest of the day…

Joshua felt suddenly very lost.  He had been so busy for so long that the prospect of an afternoon off actually scared him a little.  He had no idea what to do with his time.

“Computer, please close down my station for the rest of the day,” he said, getting up and placing his empty tea cup in the beverage dispenser.  The holo-screen at his desk went dark, and Joshua turned off the lights before leaving his office.

Joshua aimlessly wandered the golden corridors of Airlandis, greeting people he knew, and those he didn’t.  (He was a public figure, after all!)  After stopping and staring at the floating biospheres inside the central dome for a while, he meandered down to the amber crystal reactors.  He hadn’t checked up on Orak for some time.  Nothing like a random inspection to keep things running smoothly, he mused.

“Get me a fresh batch, you rivetheads!” he heard Orak’s voice long before Airlandis’ Chief Engineer came into view.  Joshua saw technicians scurrying all over the reactor chamber, carrying fresh crystals and taking away the shards of the spent ones to be reprocessed.

“Well Orak, how are things going?” Joshua asked.

The Chief Engineer grunted.  “Same as always.  What are you doing here, Joshua?  Come to check up on me since I wasn’t at the Council meeting?” he growled.

Joshua raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture to the prickly engineer.  “Honestly Orak – I got your message about being unable to attend days ago.  No, I just…found myself with some time, so I came to check up on things down here.”

Orak raised an eyebrow at him.  “Well…since you’re here, take a look at our progress on the _Aristotle_.”  Orak’s features softened as he thought of his new baby.  “She’s a thing of beauty, I tell you.”

After barking a few more orders to his terrified staff, Orak led Joshua to the elevators that took them up to his private workshop.  “We’re still keeping all of this on a need-to-know basis, per your orders.  Aaron, Apex, Z’neth, Miriam, you, me, the Council, and several of my staff are the only ones who still know the specifics.”

“Good,” Joshua nodded.  “Please keep it that way for now.  The less people who know, the less chance that Dread Wing finds out about our new project.”

Orak entered a few keystrokes and underwent a retinal scan before the bay doors opened, revealing the half-finished _Aristotle_.  She was sleek, perfect for cutting through the Warp Winds, with rotating engines that could emerge from her port and starboard sides, along with a main propulsion engine in the back.

“The _Scavenger_ , may it rest in pieces, was a good design, but I went back to the basics of a Strato-Glider for this one.  It’s also a better shape to house the laboratory elements we want to include,” Orak said.

Joshua walked around the hulking vessel before smiling.  “Well, it appears the resources we allocated are being put to good use.  Thank you for the update, Orak.”

“Uh, sure, anytime Joshua,” Orak said as Joshua bade him goodbye and left the engineering unit.

Joshua spent the next few hours checking on various people at the University, Skywatch, and the Dragonators, all of whom were surprised he just stopped by for a visit.  Looking at his chrono, Joshua realized that it was close to 1500 hours, and his son Eli would be getting out of school.  Making his way to the school, Joshua stood at the reception desk, feeling unsettled as he realized that he didn’t even know where Eli’s classroom was.  Looking both ways to make sure there was nobody around, Joshua whispered, “Computer, this is Councilman Joshua.  Where is my son Eli’s classroom?” he asked sheepishly. 

The school’s computer thankfully directed him to the room, and he peered in through the window to get a better look.  The teacher looked over, obviously startled to see the Council Head standing right outside her classroom.  Opening the door, she looked up at him in awe, which made Joshua embarrassed.  “Can I do anything for you, Councilman Joshua?” she asked in a mousy voice.

He gave her his best winning politician smile, noting out of the corner of his eye that all the kids were pointing and whispering.  “Just here to pick up my son is all.  Don’t let me interrupt class,” he said.

The teacher ushered him in, and Joshua waved to Eli before he took a seat in the back of the room.  But it was clear that none of the children were paying any attention anymore, so the teacher made the executive decision to let class out a few minutes early.

“What are you doing here Father?” Eli asked as he strolled up to Joshua.  “Is my teacher in some kind of trouble?”

Joshua laughed out loud.  “No, your teacher is not in trouble!  I just came to pick you up from school,” he replied.  “So let’s go, champ.”

Eli said goodbye to his friends, and Joshua to the teacher (apologizing for interrupting her class again) before they left.  Joshua looked down at his son with fondness.  Eli had been born almost ten years ago when Joshua had first taken his seat as head of the Council.   He sometimes felt guilty for missing so many things in his child’s life, but tried to be there for all the important things.  Still, it often felt like there were not enough hours in the day sometimes.

Except for today.

“When do you have to go back to work, Dad?” Eli asked, likely thinking this was just a quick stop on Joshua’s famous to-do list.

“Not until tomorrow, champ.  I’m all yours for the rest of the day.  What would you like to do?” Joshua answered with a smile.

Eli grinned and took Joshua’s hand as they came to a crowded, busy area of Airlandis.  “I have this great new game – want to play?”

“I’d love to,” Joshua said, and really meant it.


	10. Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note this chapter contains a M/M relationship, which will continue to appear periodically throughout the work.

Prompt 10: Secret

                Amod fired his Wind Jammer into the cluster of gremwings, breaking them apart and scattering the nasty things in all different directions.  He saw Titan roar before biting one of them out of the sky.

                “Titan, don’t eat that!” Amod yelled.  “You don’t know where it’s been!”

                Titan only projected feelings of satisfied deliciousness, much to Amod’s chagrin.  Not all dragons developed a taste for gremwing, but of course Titan would be one that did.  Though they had become much better partners since the _Scavenger_ incident, Amod still felt that sometimes he would never totally understand his dragon. 

                “Drop and shop, Titan!” Amod said, as his dragon swooped down to the lava pits below them.  There was a nice amber crop just waiting to be harvested, and Titan expertly grabbed one of the crystals below.  “Got it!” Amod said with excitement. 

                Amod aimed for a large group of the gremwings that were surrounding his teammate Nora and shot at them, getting the buggers off Nora and Goliath’s tail.

                “Thanks Amod!” Nora said with a smile, giving her teammate a mock salute.

                “Fun time later, kids!” came Zarkan’s voice over the vox box.  “I’m holed up in sector G-6 and could really use a hand!”

                “Well, we shouldn’t keep our dear leader waiting,” Nora said, veering off their current flight path toward his location.  When Zarkan came into view, Amod could see that his dragon Thunder was backed up against a rock wall, surrounded on two sides by gremwings, and on the third by the mutant Nocturna.

                “Drop the amber crystals, dragonators, or your precious leader might get… _burned_ ,” Nocturna said with a cackle as she aimed her plasma cannon directly at Zarkan.

                “Don’t do it, Amod!”  Zarkan cried.  “Airlandis needs those crystals!”

                Amod couldn’t stand it any longer.  “Maximize!” he yelled, using his exo-wings to launch off of Titan and barrel into Nocturna.  The blue mutant screamed as they both fell off of Nocturna’s dragon and plunged toward the lava pit below.  Amod didn’t let her go as they picked up speed.

                “Are you crazy, human?  We’ll both be killed!” she screeched, clawing at his face.  In a last ditch-effort, Nocturna was able to get a taloned foot up against his chest and push Amod away.  She unfurled her wings at the last moment and rose into the air on a thermal draft as Amod was unceremoniously flung into the rock wall.

                Amod felt something break, and grunted in pain.  He saw stars for a few minutes, but his exo-wings kept him from taking a short trip into the spicy dip.  Amod was being bombarded by mental images of distress from Titan, who had lost sight of him.  “I’m here, buddy,” he whispered, the pain growing worse.  Amod found Titan hanging around with Thunder and Goliath, guarding their batch of crystals as Zarkan and Nora shot Wind Jammer fire into the cloud of retreating gremwings led by Nocturna.

                “Thank the amber there were no Dark Dramen this time,” Zarkan said, relief in his voice.  He noticed Amod limply flying back to Titan.  “Amod, you okay?” he asked.

                The truth was, Amod was definitely not okay.  He sat down on Titan, who rumbled a greeting, definitely able to see through Amod’s façade to the pain beneath.

                “I’ll be fine,” Amod said with a hand wave.  He didn’t want to trouble Zarkan over it.  He’d caused Zarkan enough trouble after the _Scavenger_ incident to last a lifetime.  Titan roared again, irritated this time as Amod’s vision started to darken.

                Suddenly, Zarkan was behind him, arms tightly around Amod to keep him in the saddle.  “Let’s get you home, Amod.  Get us back to Airlandis, Titan!”

                The flight home was a blur, Amod nodding in and out of consciousness, Zarkan’s urgent voice resounding in his ear from time to time until he finally blacked out completely.

                When he awoke, Amod was in the medical bay.  He was out of his flight suit and in a bed, sunlight streaming in through his window.  Amod rolled over, and everything flashed in pain.

                Amod lay in bed for a few minutes, panicky and breathing shallowly.  He reached out for Titan, finding great support in his dragon partner’s mental solidarity.  His breathing slowed gradually as he regained composure.

                “Ah, Titan told Thunder you were awake,” came Zarkan’s voice as his form darkened the doorway.

Amod tried to give his team leader a smile, but could only manage a grimace.  “What happened to me?” he asked.

Zarkan sat down by the bed and took Amod’s hand.  “They had to operate.  Your spine had fractured in three places from that tumble with Nocturna.  You were lucky we made it here in record time, or else you might not have ever been able to fly again!”  Here, Zarkan’s voice broke a little bit.  “What were you thinking crashing into Nocturna like that?  I told you to get the crystals to Airlandis!”

“I couldn’t leave you all for her,” Amod tried to joke.  Though he might never say anything to the other dragonator, Amod had feelings for Zarkan and would be damned if he let Nocturna hurt him.

“Well, you’ll get me all you want,” Zarkan said.  “You’re coming to stay with me after they medically clear you to leave.  I’m certainly not having you discharged back to your quarters.”

“Aye-aye, boss,” Amod said with relief, his head sinking back onto the pillow as Zarkan squeezed his hand.

*****

                Amod felt just a little weird staying with Zarkan.  This was after all the guy he had developed feelings for ages ago, only to put them in a little box and seal them up when he felt the possibility of a relationship didn’t have much hope.  Amod had decided that working together on Team Two would have to be enough for him.

                After a few weeks, they had fallen into a kind of rhythm together.  Zarkan had asked to be put on light duty for the duration of Amod’s recovery, to which Z’neth had surprisingly agreed.  Zarkan had even bargained for Nora to have the chance to train with Team One during the meantime, which she was stoked about.

                Every morning, Zarkan would take Amod to breakfast in the Replimat, then down to see Titan and Thunder.  Amod could tell that Titan was worried about him, but Zarkan was the one who suggested the daily visits to help calm both their nerves.  It proved to be wonderful, and sometimes they would spend hours down in dragon dock simply hanging out with the dragons.

                In the afternoon, they would hit up the archives and study, or help Miriam in her lab, or just watch old holofilms together.  Zarkan also pushed him, forcing Amod to do physical therapy even when he didn’t want to.  Amod felt himself getting stronger every day, but almost regretted getting well so soon.  He loved spending time with Zarkan.

                At the end of a month, the doctors had finally cleared Amod to return to light duty.

                “Why don’t we try a little flying today,” Zarkan suggested as they walked out of the medical bay after Amod’s appointment.  “I’m sure Titan wants to get back out there as much as you do!”

                Amod’s face fell a little bit.  Of course he wanted to fly with Titan again.  But the end of his recuperation period also meant that he would move back to his own quarters.  Somehow the thought seemed cold and lonely.

                “What’s the matter Amod?  Not feeling up to it today?” Zarkan asked.

                Amod shook his head.  “No, that’s not it,” he answered.  They walked the rest of their way to the dragon dock in silence.

                Titan nuzzled Amod fondly, almost knocking him over when he found out they were going to be flying today for the first time in a month.

                Zarkan helped Amod get his saddle on Titan, before looking straight into his eyes and saying, “I have to know, Amod.  Why did you go so crazy when Nocturna had me cornered on our last mission?”

                Amod looked down at the golden floor and felt his cheeks flush.  “Because it’s you, I guess.  I’ve had a…thing for you for a long time, Zarkan,” Amod admitted.  Somehow, it was freeing to finally get that off of his chest, even if it meant Zarkan would probably distance himself now.  “I understand if you want to transfer me to a different team.”

                When Amod finally looked up, Zarkan was smiling.  “Transfer you to a different team?  Why would I want to get rid of a great wingman?”

                Amod was stunned.  “Then you don’t mind?  About my feelings?”

                Zarkan shook his head.  “I had a lot of time to think while I sat by you in the hospital, Amod.  About how much you mean to me as well, and how I didn’t want to lose you.  In fact, I hope you don’t think I’m being too forward, but I was kind of hoping you would stay with me.”  A blush spread across Zarkan’s face.

                Tears stung Amod’s eyes as he started crying.  Alarm flashed across Zarkan’s face as he pulled him into a hug.  “It’s okay, it’s okay.  You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he replied gently.

                Amod shook his head vehemently.  “No, that’s not what I meant!” he cried. 

                Zarkan’s face brightened.  “Then you’ll move in?”

                Amod wrapped his arms around Zarkan’s neck and kissed him deeply.  “Yes.”

                It was the best, most wonderful flight Amod ever remembered.


	11. Superstition

Prompt 11: Superstition

                Dram was contemplative as Shockfire soared over the twisted, gnarled treetops of Old Earth.  He was on his way to conduct talks with Condra, leader of the Dramen village Dram had once belonged to.  Dram had been appointed by the Airlandean Council to find a way to make allies of the Dramen, building bonds of trust with them to create a united front against Dread Wing.

_“Are you sure you want me for this job, Z’neth?” Dram asked.  “Would it not be better if you, Joshua, or Aaron went to finalize the treaty?”_

_Z’neth had clapped Dram on the shoulder.  “There’s no one I’d rather have than you on this assignment, Dram.  The Dramen tribes don’t fear us, but they certainly don’t altogether trust us.  You are one of them.  You will be able to break through to them.  I have complete faith in you, Dram.”_

                Dram felt torn between two worlds.  He was loved and accepted as part of a family in Airlandis – truly, the only family he really remembered.  But at his core, he was Dramen.  He could grow wings from his back and was stronger than any human.  He was highborn and lowborn all at once, and it never failed to make him slightly uncomfortable whenever he thought about it.

                A large iridescent bubble came into view on the horizon.  “This is Dragonator Dram to Dramen village,” he said into his vox box.  I am on my final approach.  Please open the forcefield.”  The forcefield technology had been a gift from Airlandis to open channels of communication.  It had been the perfect choice to show their goodwill as well – giving the Dramen village the ability to protect themselves from raids by their Dark Dramen cousins led by Vidak and Kreigo.  Or from being captured by Dread Wing and used as slaves in the mine pits.

                “We acknowledge Dram, Son of Aaron,” said Condra across the vox channel.  “Welcome home, my child,” he added, in the traditional greeting to those who had been out of the village for a length of time.  Dramen elders were not only the political leaders of their tribes, but spiritual fathers as well.

                Dram saw a circular opening at the top of the forcefield, and guided Shockfire expertly through, landing in the village’s central clearing.  All around Shockfire, Dramen children chattered excitedly and waved to Dram.  He had become something of a hero to them after beating the giant Dark Dramen warrior Ork in single combat and saving them from Vidak and Nocturna several months ago.

                “It is good to see you, my friends,” Dram said, hopping off of the dragon’s back.  He caught a sight of Condra at the edge of the crowd, leaning heavily on his staff.  Making his way to the revered elder, Dram lowered himself to one knee in presentation.  Condra touched his forehead, the sign allowing the Dramen to stand, before embracing him.

                “Welcome back, Dram.  We are delighted to have you with us again,” Condra said.  “I have prepared refreshments in my hut.  The other elders will be here soon, but I thought we might have the chance to speak privately beforehand.”

                Dram nodded.  “Of course, honored teacher.”  Turning to the children, he said, “Please take care of Shockfire for me!”  The dragon roared, delighted by all the attention she was getting.

                Dram followed Condra into his hut, where a variety of foods had been laid out on the low table.  Dram helped Condra onto a stack of pillows before seating himself on a stool.

                “I will be direct,” Condra said as he poured drink for them.  “I would like to name you my successor in these talks.”

                “But honored teacher, I am not even truly of this village!” Dram said.  “I will not be recognized by the other leaders.”

                Condra waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.  “Bah!  You were born here, and you have returned here.  Besides, you know the prophecy…”

                This part always made Dram uncomfortable.  That he had helped to save this village from the Dark Dramen and Dread Wing was not in dispute.  But when Condra and the villagers had decided to plug him into an old prophecy of a “savior from the sky,” Dram had been rather bewildered.  He had simply been doing his job as any dragonator of Airlandis would have done.

                But in their efforts to form an alliance with the Dramen tribes, Aaron had encouraged Dram to – if not fully accept the prophetic angle – then at least allow it to remain vocally unchallenged for the time being.  So Dram had been taken under Condra’s wing, re-learning everything about the Dramen culture that he had forgotten throughout his years living in Airlandis.  Dram took his position as Ambassador to the Dramen quite seriously, for he knew there was much his people could teach the humans as well.  They may even one day help the humans find a new home on Old Earth.

                “Please, teacher, you know of my discomfort with the prophecy,” Dram said.

                “Aye, Dram, I do, but this is serious,” Condra continued, leaning back on his pillows.  “I fear I am not long for this world.”

                Dram was startled.  “If you are sick, teacher, then allow me to take you to Airlandis for healing,” he offered.

                “No,” Condra replied.  “I am afraid it is not anything the arts of the floating city can cure, unless they know a way to cheat the return to Earth that comes for us all.  It is the Dramen Way to accept our fate.”  He gave Dram a weak smile.  “Except of course for those times when we must fight for ourselves,” Condra added with a chuckle, referencing Dram’s saving of the village.  “A wise young Dramen taught me that.”

                “One lesson in return for your many words of wisdom seems a small price, teacher,” Dram said.

                “But an important lesson it was.  And now I will return it to you, Dram.  Because I want you to fight for this village and all the Dramen on Old Earth.  Dram, you are uniquely positioned to lead our people going forward.  To make sure they are looked after when I am gone,” Condra said.

                Dram shook his head.  “Surely you have someone better, teacher.”

                Condra shrugged his thin shoulders.  “I may have at one time, but it was not to be.  He is gone now, and you are here.”

                “Being here does not qualify me for leadership,” Dram retorted.

                “You might be surprised that often it does, Dram.  Leaders are often not given the opportunity to choose their path; rather, they must accept the cup offered them,” Condra said gently.  “Dram, you are uniquely position among the Dramen.  You have lived with the humans, and know how to improve the lives of those living here, and you have fought the mutants and Dark Dramen on many occasions.  You would know how to protect our people.”

                Dram sighed.  “I must think this through carefully, teacher.  Please excuse me.”  He bowed to Condra before leaving the hut.  Dram wandered to the edge of the village and settled himself beneath a scrub-pine tree.  All around him the village was alive – children playing with Shockfire, the women preparing the meal for all the village elders who were on their way, and the men working the fields or training in defense.  It was so _different_ from Airlandis.  He loved being surrounded by his people, but the thought of staying on Old Earth permanently also filled Dram with profound sadness.  To never see the crystalline blue Sky above the Warp Winds, or his human family who shared that sky would be difficult.  Dram thought of his lifelong friendship with Z’neth, Apex, sharp as the dragon’s tooth, gentle Summit, and mischievous Peak.  Of his father Aaron who had pulled him from the burning wreckage of his old life and given Dram the chance to become something more.

                Was he being offered another chance like that now?

                Dram saw dragons coming in from the west, and went to lower the barrier.  The Village Elders had arrived for the talks, and Dram wanted to be there to see them.  Condra had come out of his tent to greet his peers, and once they had all landed and the formalities had been exchanged, warm greetings were given all around.  Dram’s heart was filled at the sight of so many different tribes gathered together for the first time in over a century.  He knew that together his people were strong enough to face whatever new challenges came their way.

                The twelve elders and their second-in-commands filed into the village hall, where food had been set out and the talks would take place.

                Condra and Dram were the last to enter, and Dram helped his teacher take the place of honor at the head of the table before standing silently behind him.

                “Welcome, friends, to this historic meeting,” Condra said, his voice deep and resonant.  “Dram of Airlandis is with us today, as a representative of the humans in the floating city.”

                “Why should the humans have any business with us?” one of the elders shot out.

                “The humans have long been our friends and unofficial allies,” Condra said sharply.  “Dram’s presence here proves that, I think, as does the gift of the forcefield generators that currently protect all of us and my village.”

                “I notice your village benefits from this, Condra, while the rest of us must deal with the Dark Dramen raiding us from above!” the elder’s second said.

                “The generators will be available to all who attend this conference,” Dram spat back.  “Had you held your tongue a moment longer, I would have told you that.”

                The second gave Dram and Condra a dirty look.  “Who is this Airlandean to speak to us in such a fashion?”

                _Thrust upon me indeed_ , Dram thought.  “I am Dram, dragonator of Airlandis, emissary to the United Dramen Council, vanquisher of the giant Ork, and now Second-in-Command to Elder Condra.  I am well within my rights and duty to stand at this table,” he said, crossing his arms.

                Out of the corner of his eye, Dram could have sworn he saw Condra smile and let out a small sigh of relief.  “Now that this matter is settled, my brothers,” he said, “let us accept our fates to carry the peace in these troubling times and forge a peace accord…”


	12. Fantasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note this goes to a pretty dark place near the end - you have been warned.

Prompt 12: Fantasy

                "Back to work, hu-man slave!" Intendant Fryte screamed, cracking his laser whip across Z'neth's back.  The man grunted in pain, but did not give the beast the pleasure of seeing his tears.  Though he might die in these forsaken mines, Z'neth was still a human, with human dignity.  He would never give the mutant monsters the sadistic pleasure of his pain. Licking his cracked, stinging lips, Z'neth pick up his pick and returned to digging the precious amber crystals that Lord Dread Wing used to power his floating castle.

                Z'neth had been born here, and lived his life in the mines.  His parents had been killed in a cave-in years ago, and he hadn't seen any of his siblings since.  Z'neth assumed the worst about their fate, as they likely did of him if any of them were alive.  Time had little meaning.  “Morning” was the start of work, and “Evening” was when you were released to sleep and gain what little nourishment you could from the putrid rations provided.

                Though he had been outside this stone prison, Z’neth dreamed of the sky.  Of soaring through and endless sea of blue and white.  He fought Dread Wing.  He was a hero.  But then Z’neth would wake up, and remember he was nothing more than a slave, would always be a slave, and die in this filth-ridden hole in the ground.

                But they couldn’t stop him from dreaming.

*****

                Summit felt lucky.  Among all the humans, he had been given the honor of working for Gangryn, the master inventor.  The spindly mutant had long ago recognized Summit’s potential for working with machines and technology, and saved him from a life spent in the mines.

                Summit shuddered, though he was stripped to the waist and sweating while working in Warnado’s engine room, remembering the years he had spent in the mines.  Intendant Fryte was a cruel master, as the scars crisscrossing Summit’s back attested to.  Was Z’neth still alive?  Summit often thought of his brother toiling away in the endless hell of the mines and dying, crippled and alone, in a dark pit.  But better that life than what had happened to Apex and Peak.  Summit shuddered with revulsion at their fates.

                He adjusted the magma flow into the central reactor chamber just as Gangryn had taught him, making sure to compensate for the increased energy usage that building the war machines of Lord Dread Wing’s army had caused.

                Dread Wing’s army, whether from his floating palace in the sky or the earthbound citadel of Warnado, marched across the land, subjugating Dramen and humans alike.  Summit sighed.  It was only natural that the superior mutant forces would claim their place on the evolutionary ladder.

                Summit finished his adjustment, then packed up his tools before heading back to Gangryn’s laboratory for his next assignment.  Walking the hallway, Summit kept his head down, avoiding the gaze of the Dark Dramen officers he passed.  Getting in trouble with them would only get him hurt, or worse.  When he finally reached the lab, Summit clutched his head, aware of a headache coming on.  Grinding his teeth together, Summit willed the pain to leave him.  He had duties to finish.

*****

                As she whirled and danced, Apex sent silent thanks to whatever deity had allowed her to become part of the harem.  King Dread Wing and Queen Nocturna were giving a feast tonight, and the entire hall of the floating palace was filled with rowdy, drunken Dramen and mutants.  Human servants scurried around half-naked, like fruit to be plucked at any time by any one. 

                Seeing as how Dread Wing had employed the entire royal harem as the servants tonight, that wasn’t far from being an accurate assessment.  The King and Queen had…varying tastes, and shared one harem of male and female slaves.  Tonight, they would be sharing that harem with their trusted lieutenants, as a show of gratitude for all their work in the last campaign.

                Apex didn’t mind the mutants all that much.  She was a favorite of both the King and Queen, which gave her certain privileges.  But she couldn’t stand the Dark Dramen.  Apex didn’t know how it was possible, but she could _hear_ the foul creatures’ thoughts.  Every dark and twisted desire floated into her brain, and it was more than enough to make her physically ill on a number of occasions.  She didn’t understand how she had this ability, and it frightened her.  No other humans she had ever met seemed to be able to hear thoughts, Dramen or otherwise.  Maybe she had just finally cracked.

                Apex finished her dance and made sultry eyes to many of the mutant lieutenants she’d rather end up with tonight.  Sauntering off the stage, she made her way to the kitchens and picked up a tray of blood wine, downing a glass herself before plastering her work face on and mingling with the sinister crowd gathered in the hall, enduring their pawing hands all over her body.

                Still, she looked sadly up at her brother Peak, chained to Dread Wing’s throne like some kind of animal, and realized her life could be far worse.

*****

                Peak’s skin crawled as Dread Wing’s taloned fingers traced through his hair.  He tried to shut it out, to retreat into himself to the point of not feeling anything anymore.  Peak tried to mentally go back to the mines, thinking of Z’neth and Summit.  Concentrating on his big brothers gave Peak the strength to live.

                Or maybe death would be a welcome release from his life as the king’s personal sex slave.

                Before their parents had been killed in the cave-in, Peak’s parents had worked to undermine the Intendant and gain control of the amber mines.  The plans were rarely ever spoken out loud, but Peak knew Intendant Fryte must have found out somehow, because shortly after both his parents were dead, and Gangryn had come to look over the slaves for a project he was headlining.  Rejecting Z’neth, he had taken the other three back to Warnado.

                Where they had the misfortune to run into Queen Nocturna.  She had taken an immediate interest in Peak and Apex, allowing Gangryn to keep only Summit as a slave.  They had been stripped of their clothes, their identities, anything other than the fact that they were there to please the King and Queen.  Peak had felt his life could not get much worse.

                Then Dread Wing had taken a personal interest in Peak.

                Being dominated by the monster was almost more than Peak could take.  He had retreated further and further into his private mental space, full of light and sky, and sometimes strange beasts that he rode through the air.

                Queen Nocturna hadn’t much liked her husband taking him as a favored partner either and she made sure to make life difficult for Peak at every turn possible.

                The evening passed in a blur for Peak, as most time did now.  Dread Wing stood up and made speeches to his cronies, and the evening was over.  As Peak was being led back to Dread Wing’s private chamber, he saw Apex coming down the hallway in the opposite direction.  They barely made eye contact – Peak often felt too ashamed to face his sister.  But then he felt her hand in his, a brief touch that went unnoticed by the Dramen guards.  And when Peak looked down, he saw a small tablet in his hand.

                Apex had done it.  She had gotten him one of the Fatality Pills.  Peak’s hand tightened around it, not wanting this chance to be snatched away from him.  The guards deposited him unceremoniously in Dread’s chambers, where Peak spent long moments looking at the tablet.

                He only really had two options – stay Dread Wing’s sex slave for the rest of his miserable existence, dying slowly more every day, or end it all now.

                Peak took the tablet, crushing it between his teeth.  He felt an overpowering sleepiness come over him and lay on the bed.  With his final breath, Peak dreamed of the sky.

*****

                Peak awoke with a violet jerk to the smell of spilled chemicals and burnt ozone.  Apex was shaking him, and he saw the battered forms of Gangryn and Fryte in a heap in the corner, taken care of by Summit and Z’neth.  Dread Wing lay in a chair connected to wires and tubes, the machine still running.

                “Come on Peak, we’ve got to get out of here!” Apex said urgently.

                Peak allowed himself to be pulled out of the chair, and winced when Apex ripped the IV fluid line from his arm.  She dragged him from the room, Z’neth and Peak following behind.

                “Sis,” he said woozily as they flew up the main shaft of Warnado, “what was that?”

                “That was Dread Wing’s Dark Dream; a device he and Gangryn cooked up to trap us,” she answered.  “None of what we experienced was real, Peak.  No matter what it felt like, none of that ever truly happened.”  Outside, Peak saw Wing Storm and the other dragons chained up.  Z’neth and Summit made short work of the guards, and they mounted the dragons and took off for the nearest Wind Pit.

                Peak realized he had been holding his breath for a long time.  How could none of that have been real?  Dread Wing had violated him over and over.  Peak remembered every instance.  He felt filthy and used.

                The dragons entered the Wind Pit and climbed rapidly toward the top, and the cold, fresh air that lay above the fetid stench of Old Earth. 

                “Apex,” Peak asked as they emerged in the sunlight.  “What did we experience, then?  Was it Dread Wing’s dream, or our nightmare?”


	13. Test

Prompt 13: Test

                Apex, her father Aaron, Orak, Miriam, and Councilman Joshua sat around the small conference table, trying to hammer out details about the upcoming _Aristotle_ Mark II test flight.  They had been there all evening, and as Apex looked at the chrono on the wall, she saw it was well past midnight.  Orak was practically asleep, and Miriam took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes.

                "Well, what about Amod?" Aaron asked.  They had been going over the dragonator detail for who would accompany the _Aristotle_ on its first two-day mission.

                Apex shook her head.  "Is your memory going, Father?  You _do_ remember the _Scavenger_ incident, right?  Given he and Titan's history with that, I think he's out of the running."  Apex looked at her ice-cold cup of coffee and, throwing better judgment to the wind, drained the rest of the cup.

                "So let's go over the list again - we established we're looking only at DF Teams One and Two for this mission," Joshua piped in.  "Apex is field commander for this mission, and Summit would be good as a second hand to help with the tech side of things.  We've established Z'neth cannot be spared for such a mission, and well, let's just say the consensus on Peak was a lack of...experience.  Amod is also out for obvious reasons, and Dram is still on special assignment.  Though if absolutely necessary, I'm sure he would be happy to assist this operation."

                Aaron disagreed.  "Dram's work with the Dramen is of critical importance, and in a very delicate stage.  I wouldn't pull him back for anything other than a D4 alert."

                "Well then our questions are answered.  Zarkan and Nora will work alongside Summit and Apex," Joshua said.

                "Finally!" Orak said, appearing to wake up.  He had gone over the final technical details to the group hours ago, and made a surprise announcement that he would personally be overseeing the Mark II's test flight, saying it was his baby and in no way would he let them crash it into another mountain.  "I'm going to bed.  See you all for the announcement tomorrow morning."  His chair scraped against the floor as he got up and recycled his cup.

                "Our science team has all been informed as well," Miriam added, speaking for Aaron as well.  "Once it went around the biology division what we were undertaking, I had to practically place a guard at the door to prevent people from throwing their research requests at me!"

                Aaron chuckled.  "Well Miriam, you _are_ the one who wanted us to undertake these large-scale research missions again."

                "And I think it's a wonderful idea," Apex added, stifling a yawn.  "But I think I need to follow Orak's example and turn in.  Tomorrow's announcement is going to be a big day."

*****

                Apex's prediction held true the next day as Joshua and the Council stood behind the primary research team, and Aaron and Apex called Zarkan and Nora up to the front of the crowd, where they both graciously accepted the assignment.  (Apex had been kind enough to message them after the previous night's meeting with the decision, so that they were aware of their selection for the mission.)

                After the announcement, preparations began in earnest for the test flight.  Orak, accompanied by Apex, took the Mark II for a quick spin to Mount Alayas and back, and was delighted that the new engines he had designed appeared to work perfectly.  He also tested the miniature Warp Cannons that had been installed on the dorsal and ventral sides of the ship.  The way they pulverized the target disks gave Apex great hopes for the damage they could do to a horde of gremwings if any trouble arose belowclouds.

                To Apex's annoyance, however, Orak had dropped the ship through the Warp Winds without authorization, testing its ability to survive the howling maelstrom.  When she confronted him about it after they docked back at Airlandis, he had simply shrugged and reminded her that the ship was his design, and he was responsible for testing it.  "I can't very well let a huge group go into the Warp Winds in an untested ship, now can I?" he responded smugly.  Apex found this infuriating, but his reasoning was still quite sound.  She would have probably done the same in his situation.

                Aaron and Miriam were almost buried in getting all their technical equipment on board.  They had extended the third research position to a brilliant geophysicist from the University named Eleazar.  He was honored to be their choice, and flew into preparations with gusto.

                A week later, the two researchers, four dragonators, Orak, Joshua, Z’neth and several of the Skywatch personnel attended a final briefing.

                “Welcome everyone,” Aaron said, floating to the front of the group.  “As you know, tomorrow morning we launch on our two-night excursion to Old Earth.  I don’t have to remind you all how dangerous this mission is – we have avoided spending too much time on Old Earth since Dread Wing came into power, but hopefully this signals a new era. 

“Still, we are trying to take adequate precautions.  The _Aristotle_ is equipped with a unique vox channel frequency that has never been used before.  It is shared between the ship, the four dragonators, and Skywatch only.  This will minimize the chance that Dread Wing can pick up our communications.  The ship is also equipped with the best scanning system available, and can disappear from sensors for a limited time.”

                “Limited being the key word,” Orak growled.  “That system is new.  Use it only in the event of necessary escape.”

                Aaron nodded.  “During the trial, safety is our paramount concern.”

*****

                The next day dawned bright and clear.  A crowd had gathered to see the group off as the _Aristotle_ was moved to the launch platform.  The team, arrayed in their flight suits, waved to the crowd and stopped for a holo image before boarding the vehicle.  With the call from Skywatch, the dragonators mounted their dragons and headed for the closest Wind Pit.  Airlandis had moved further away from Dread Wing’s known flight paths, but the dragonators were going down first to determine whether or not it was safe for the ship to cross the Warp Winds.

                Miriam sat at the communications station of the cockpit, monitoring transmissions from Skywatch and the surface, while Orak monitored all ship systems, Eleazar was on tactical and scanning, and Aaron flew the ship.

                “ _Aristotle_ , this is Dragonator One,” Apex said across the secure vox channel.  “Please come in, _Aristotle_.”

                “ _Aristotle_ here,” Miriam replied.  “What is the situation belowclouds, Dragonator One?”

                “Not a mutant or Dark Dramen for miles.  The dragons don’t sense anything either,” Apex reported.

                “Did you copy that, Skywatch?” Aaron asked.

                “Affirmed.  You are cleared for takeoff at any time _Aristotle_.  May dragons fly you home,” they said, the traditional Airlandean blessing.

                Orak flicked switches and looked like a pianist as his hands flew over a console that went through a kaleidoscope of colors.  “Amber crystal reactor is operating at full output.  Let’s burn some wing,” Orak said with a grin.

                “Skywatch, we are taking off,” Miriam said.

                Orak engaged the twin engines on the side of the craft that allowed for vertical takeoff.  The ship rumbled slightly before rising into the air.  The passengers could hear the cheers from the flight deck.

                “I’m taking her out,” Aaron said, engaging the flight controls.  The engine at the ship’s rear came to life and the _Aristotle_ shot forward into the blue sky.  Aaron made a few circles around Airlandis to give the citizens a good view of the ship (and allow Orak to monitor the ship’s functions in safe airspace one more time).

                “It’s incredible!” Eleazar exclaimed.  This was the first time he had ever been outside the city, and seen the majesty of Airlandis floating in the heavens.

                “The view’s about to get a whole lot worse,” Orak responded.  “I’m initiating preparations for the Warp Wind drop.  Call us out, Miri.”

                Miriam nodded.  “ _Aristotle_ to Dragonator One.  We are above the drop site and will be coming through soon.”

                “Acknowledged, _Aristotle_.  See you on the other side,” Apex said.

                “Deploying shielding,” Eleazar said.  Large metal plates slid into place across the windows and hatches throughout the ship, including the forward viewport.

                “We’re going in,” Aaron replied, angling the ship toward the Warp Winds and hitting the throttle.  The _Aristotle_ shot forward into the howling winds, sending bone-jarring vibrations though the passengers.  Turbulent forces pulled and pushed on the ship, but the shielding held steady.  Aaron gave the throttle another press, and the _Aristotle_ spun out of the Warp Winds.

                “I can’t engage the thrusters!” Orak shouted.  “Something must have been damaged passing through!”  The ship began a sickening plunge toward the lava pits and craggy rocks below.

                “Dragonators, requesting emergency landing procedures!” Miriam cried into the communicator.  Winged shapes swooped around the plummeting vessel, then suddenly their descent was jerked to a violent halt, sending the passengers shaking out of their seats.

                “This is Dragonator One,” Apex said.  “Is everyone all right?” Her voice was worried.

                Miriam looked around the cabin.  “We’re a little bruised, but it’s nothing a good dermal regenerator won’t take care of.”

                “Glad to hear it,” Apex replied.  “Blaze Wind spotted a nice canyon to set you down in about a mile away.  We’re going there, and then we’ll plan from there.”

                The dragons carried the Aristotle to the designated landing site and gently sent her down.  As soon as they were on the ground, Zarkan was rushing in to make sure his sister, uncle, and the others were okay.

                “My heart was in my throat when I saw the ship come spinning out of the Warp Winds!” Zarkan exclaimed, giving Miriam a hug.  Summit, Nora, and Apex followed in behind him.

                “What happened?” Summit asked, turning to Orak.

                “I don’t know yet, but I could sure use your help in the engine room figuring that out,” Orak growled, motioning for Summit to follow him down the hatch in the floor to the amber reactor and engineering room below the cockpit.

                “Well, until that problem is solved, I say we stay here for now,” Aaron suggested.  He looked down on Eleazar’s scans.  “This valley seems to be an ideal, protected place to make our repairs before getting underway.”

                “But no sense in letting an opportunity for study go to waste,” Eleazar suggested.  “This canyon has some very interesting geologic formations I would love to get a closer look at.”

                “I don’t see that that would be a problem.  But we go out only in pairs,” Apex said.  “Nora, go with Dr. Eleazar.  Summit, go with Miriam.  Father and I will stay here and keep an eye on the scanners for any signs of trouble.”

                Miriam and Eleazar quickly gathered their sample kits and unlocked the side hatch.  A warm, fetid wind blew across the opening, but they weren’t sure there had even been such a sweet smell.

                “We’re here,” Miriam whispered in awe.


	14. Chapter 14

Prompt 14: Tease

                "Summit, can you grab that box of samples?" Miriam's voice broke Summit out of his reverie.  He had spent the better part of the last few minutes simply watching the diligent way that she packed the precious vegetation samples into their containers, numbered and labeled.

                "O-oh, of course," he replied, nodding his head.  It had been a long day, this first day of their research mission.  Orak and Summit had long since fixed the problems with the amber reactor and engine interface.  A few things had simply been knocked loose during their drop through the Warp Winds, but Orak was already crying bloody murder against some of his technicians.

                Summit picked up the sample box, surprised at how heavy it was.  Well, they had been out in the canyon for hours.  He could see the hazy form of the sun setting in the western sky.  It was like a light passing through dirty water, instead of the glorious sight they saw above the clouds.

                Still, a dirty sunset with Miriam was better than an angelic one up above.

                "So, how was your first day on Old Earth?" Summit asked as they walked back to the camp.

                "Not _nearly_ as exciting as you always make it sound," Miriam replied.  "I mean, I haven't been shot at or chased by a gremwing even once!"

                Summit laughed, "You know, I think this might be the first time that's ever happened to me either!"

                They reached the Aristotle as the sun began its final dip below the horizon.   Summit and Miriam deposited their sample boxes in the laboratory and made their way to the living quarters.  The most delicious smells wafted from the kitchen, and Summit was stoked to find Zarkan actually cooking stuff.

                “Whoa, no Replimat-style food!” Summit said.

                Zarkan gave him a smirk.  “I couldn’t resist doing something special for the first night,” he said.  “Give me a hand with this, Miri.”

                Miriam went to help her brother, while Summit found a lounge seat and sat down, exhausted from the day’s events.  Eleazar was helping Zarkan chop vegetables, while Orak, Apex, and his father were deep into a discussion about something they’d found.  Just then, Nora walked in, running her fingers through her tangled red hair.

                “Dragons are bedded for the night,” she said, flopping down next to Summit.

                “I’m thinking you look ready for bed yourself,” Summit said.

                Miriam giggled.  “Or maybe she just misses Peak?”

                Nora reddened at that, and crossed her arms, as scowl starting on her face.  “Nothing wrong with that,” she said quietly.

                “Oh ho!” Apex said.  “So there is something going on there!  Spill it!”

                Aaron smiled.  “Now Apex.  Whatever is going on between our Peak and Nora is entirely their business.  Not that I wouldn’t love to know, of course…you know I would love to see grandchildren someday.”

                Nora turned a startling shade of red at that, and Orak roared with laughter, clapping her on the back.  “You’re all right, kid,” the old engineer said.

                Zarkan passed around glasses filled with a bubbly liquid.  “Well before Nora passes out from embarrassment, I’d like to propose a toast to our first successful day here.  We had a few rough patches, but nothing such a skilled team couldn’t handle.  Cheers, all!”

                They clinked glasses, and sipped the decadent beverage.  Summit kept trying to catch glances of Miriam without her noticing him, but it was kind of futile.  She seemed to catch him looking at her every time.

                Really, he couldn’t stop thinking about the night of the Dragonator Ball.  They had danced under the stars, with the music and the champagne and everything.  They had hung out a few times after that, Summit playing his mom’s old piano and Miriam singing along. 

                But what were they to each other?  Summit didn’t know.

                Summit was broken out of his reverie as Zarkan said, “Dinner is served, friends.”

                And what a dinner it was!  Zarkan and Eleazar had outdone themselves, digging through the historical database to find some creative pre-Cataclysm recipes.

                “Where did you ever learn to cook like this?” Summit found himself asking.

                Zarkan threw an arm around his Uncle.  “Uncle Orak taught us.  He didn’t like Replimat food, so we weren’t allowed to eat it in the house.  He cooked, and Miri and I learned from him.”

                Orak had turned a little pink at the edges, his gruff exterior dropping for a moment as he regarded his nephew with apparent fondness.  “Well, I think it was mostly that I didn’t know what to do with you two,” he added.

                “Well, let’s eat before it gets cold, everyone,” Miriam said.  They gathered around the table, and loaded their plates.  Summit wasn’t sure he had ever tasted anything so good in his life.  The evening was filled with pleasant conversation and laughter.  Summit wanted it to go on forever, knowing it would be all too brief.

                He, Nora, and Apex cleared the food and cleaned up as the rest of the group settled back into the lounge seats.  “Great dragons, these seats were a wonderful idea,” Zarkan said, rolling all over one of the lounge chairs.

                The group made plans for the next day.  Sensors had detected a swamp about twenty clicks west of their current location, and it was decided that would be a good place for conducting a biological survey.  They would then move to a small mountain range that was previously unexplored before setting up camp there, having the dragons go out and retrieve a crystal supply, and then pack up everything the next morning and return to Airlandis.

                Aaron dug out a card game, and they played late into the evening before everyone decided they had actual work to do tomorrow, and had better turn in.

                Summit slept like a dragon, and the next morning dawned dark and overcast.  Or did all mornings come like this down here on Old Earth?  He honestly wasn’t sure.  Another question to add to the list. 

                Summit mounted Sky Fury as the _Aristotle_ powered up that morning.  It really was a convenient vessel to have on hand, but nothing could replace the bond he felt with his dragon.  He could sense warm feelings coming back from Fury as she processed that thought.  The _Aristotle_ was airborne in a matter of minutes, and gracefully flew west toward the swamp.

                Summit could smell it long before he could see it.  It was murky and disgusting, but his father and Miriam appeared almost irrationally excited at the prospect of hunting for species samples.  When putting teams together, Aaron decided that Apex and Nora would accompany him, while Summit, Eleazar, and Miriam would take off in an opposite direction.  Zarkan would watch the ship, and Orak would make their report in to the Council.

               “Doesn’t anyone else want to talk to Joshua?” Orak said.  “I see enough of that man every day.”

               “But just think of your face splashed across the holoscreens of Airlandis, Uncle!” Zarkan ribbed.  “Your moment of glory has arrived!”  Orak simple thwacked his nephew on the arm and went off to make the report while Zarkan took Thunder up to get a better aerial view of the swamp and surrounding area.

               Summit quickly found he had vastly preferred the canyon to the swamp.  Every step through the mud threatened to suck his boots off, and there were insects everywhere.  Miriam and Eleazar seemed to stop often to crow over phosphorescent lichen or bubbling, sulfurous mud pools.

               One minute, Miriam was bent over a large rock covered with the lichen, and the next she had disappeared beneath the mud.

               “Miri!” Summit cried.  He engaged his exo-wings and blasted out of the mud, moving quickly over to Miriam’s position.  Eleazar was trying to dig her out, but not having any luck.  Summit engaged his mask’s face plate and dove straight into the filth.  He felt around wildly, his hands finally grasping an outstretched hand.  His exo-wings groaned as they pulled him out of the muck, growing hot on his back.  With a final push, they flew up out of the hole and landed a few meters away in a muddy sprawl.  Miriam was hardly breathing.  Summit started to panic before she coughed up a lungful of mud and started crying.  He grabbed her in a tight hug.  “I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered, practically hyperventilating.

               Things were a blur as Zarkan and Apex moved them back to the ship and stripped the two for a complete decon.  It had been a good idea to install medical capsules after all, Summit mused darkly.  The blue light washed over him, and Summit flashed back to his time spent in the capsule post his bath in mutein at the hands of Dread Wing.  It was funny – Miriam had been there, watching out for him.

              Later, after decontamination procedures were completed, Summit and Miriam were sitting in bathrobes in the _Aristotle’s_ cockpit, sipping at warming nutritional supplements.

              “I’m sorry about this morning, Summit,” Miriam said quietly, looking at the floor.  “If I had been more careful, this wouldn’t have happened.”

              Summit placed a hand on her leg and leaned forward, tilting her head upward to look at him.  “You have nothing to apologize for.  I’m here to look out for you.  Plus, you’re really cute when you’re all excited about science…even if it is glowing moss and the worst smelling goop in the world.”

              They both started laughing, releasing the tension in the room.  Miriam wiped a tear away from the corner of her eye.  “Well, thank you then at the very least.”  She got up to recycle her cup, and Summit stood up as well.

             “Miri?” he asked.  “I was thinking it would be nice to spend more time together…you know, when one of us isn’t on the verge of death.”

             She turned around, raising an eyebrow at him.   “Summit…are you asking me out on a date?”

             “Well, um, I guess.  Yeah, I am,” he answered, certainly in the least suave manner possible.

             She seemed to regard him thoughtfully for a moment before a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.  “Yes – although I have one stipulation.”

                “Oh?” Summit asked.

                “Absolutely no mud holes.”


	15. Storm

Prompt 15: Storm

"All right Wing Storm!  Cut and dive!" Peak said with a whoop as his purple dragon dove toward the bubbling lava pit.  Stormy’s claws hooked perfectly around a fat amber crystal as the dragon expertly pulled up, avoiding a brush with the spicy dip.

“Cut the theatrics, Peak,” Z’neth said over his vox box.

“Why?” Peak asked, “Can’t stand being shown up?” he teased.

Peak heard Z’neth sigh.  “Watch a master at work, little brother.”  Peak stared in awe as Z’neth and his dragon Riptor made a daring dive into a tight corner of the lava pit before flying vertically upward against the sheer wall surrounding the lava.

Peak whistled with surprise.  He shouldn’t have forgotten that Z’neth wasn’t Dragonator One for nothing.  “All right, old man, I defer to your wealth of experience,” Peak said with a chuckle.

“Can we just get these crystals back to Airlandis?” Amod said as he and Titan snatched a crystal from the magma.  “The _Aristotle_ is supposed to be coming back today, and I really don’t want to miss it!”

“Agreed,” Z’neth said.  “It’ll be good to have everyone home.”

“Amod just can’t wait to see his boyfriend!” Peak said.

The other dragonator raised an eyebrow on Peak’s vid screen.  “And I’m sure you couldn’t care less about seeing…oh…Nora perhaps?” Amod said.

Peak turned bright red.

“I thought as much,” Amod said with a smirk.

Truth be told, Peak was a little jealous that Summit and Miriam had gotten to spend scads of private time together while he didn’t get the same opportunity with Nora.  And what was that nonsense about him not being experienced enough?  Nora had barely any more logged flight time than he did!

Wing Storm nudged him positive thoughts.  Sometimes his drag just took him way too seriously.  “Nothing to worry about, buddy,” he said, patting Stormy’s long neck.

The desolation of Old Earth slipped past them as the three dragonators made their way to the nearest Wind Pit.  Almost more than Nora, Peak was looking forward to Summit, Apex, and their father coming back.  He liked Z’neth, but dude was his oldest brother serious business _all the time_.  How could anyone be like that and not feel like a cragface at the end of the day?

The Wind Pit came up on the north segment of the Flyz scanners.  Peak looked down again as something caught his eye.  Was the equipment ghosting again?  “Amod, Z’neth, what does your equipment register in the northeast vector?” Peak asked.

“It looks like something large is headed for the Wind Pit,” Z’neth said.  Peak heard him call in a possible D2 alert to Skywatch.  _Nothing to worry about_ , Peak thought.

As they moved closer to the Wind Pit, Peak could make out the shape of a large dragon at the head of an enormous column of gremwings, and two other dragons following them.  Nocturna was at the front, and Dread Wing and Fryte were in the rear of the column.

“Looks like Dread’s giving us a going away party!” Peak said.  At current speeds, they would reach the Wind Pit’s entrance at nearly the same time, and Peak knew it wouldn’t be pretty.  “Let’s go, Stormy!  I wouldn’t want to disappoint him by showing up late!”

Suddenly, Peak saw flashes of plasma cannon fire arcing out from Fryte and Dread Wing toward Nocturna, roasting several gremwings as they shot through the column.

“Wait Peak!” Z’neth said.  “I think they’re chasing Nocturna, not us.”

“Good.  Let them tear each other to pieces,” Amod added.  “One less mutant for us to worry about.”

Peak saw Z’neth brow furrowed in concentration and told Stormy to slow down.  “What are you cooking up, Big Z?  For once I actually have to agree with Amod on this.  Let’s change course for the next Wind Pit and let this drama unfold.”

“Negative, Peak.  We’re going to rescue Nocturna,” Z’neth said.

“You can’t be serious, Z’neth!” Peak exclaimed.  “You remember what happened the last time we tried helping her out, don’t you?”

“Yes, I remember the last time, Peak; getting caught up in a Warnado power struggle wasn’t exactly fun, but then she still had her Dark Dramen force.  This time I think she’s alone,” Z’neth replied.   “This really could be an opportunity to get intel on Dread that would help end this conflict.  Also, it’s an order.”

“Aye, aye,” Amod chimed in in a less-than-enthusiastic tone.  Peak found he really couldn’t blame him.

“Then let’s go save a mutant.  Yay?” Peak said to Stormy, who rumbled his displeasure at the idea.  The Scalebacks were smarter than Z’neth today, apparently.

Z’neth and Riptor picked up speed as they neared the flock of gremwings.  Peak saw Z’neth blasting into the group with abandon as he angled straight for Dread Wing, hoping that disabling the leader would send the rest of the group packing.  “Peak, get to Nocturna and protect her!” Z’neth yelled into his vox box.

Peak sighed, moving Stormy toward the blue-skinned she-mutant and her dragon.

Nocturna’s face was filled with confusion and concern as she got a sight of him and Storm.  “What are you doing here, Dragon Flyz?” she screeched.

“Unfortunately, we’re saving your blue hide,” Peak said as he directed Nocturna toward the Wind Pit.  “Get into the Wind Pit and stay at the base.  We’ll stop Dread Wing.”  Peak activated his Wind Jammers and released volley after volley into the gremwings, knocking the horrid creatures from the air and into a waiting lava pit below.  He looked over the battle: Amod and Titan were clashing with Fryte, and Peak cheered as Amod got in a well-placed shot that knocked Fryte off his dragon. 

“No way am I letting some Dragon Flyz save me,” Nocturna said as she flew up toward Peak’s position.  She activated her plasma cannon and roasted two gremwings.  “It would ruin my reputation.”

“I think your reputation is the least of your current problems,” Peak retorted.

Z’neth and Dread Wing were engaged in a death match.  Z’neth flew off of Riptor and engaged Dread Wing midair, while the dragons circled overhead and snapped at each other.

“You’re right, boy.  Dread Wing is my current problem!” Nocturna replied.  Letting out a bloodcurdling battle cry, she shot through the air toward Z’neth and Dread Wing.

Peak flew after her, and watched in shock as Nocturna barreled straight into Dread Wing, knocking him away from Z’neth.  The mutant lord and his lieutenant plunged toward the smoking lava pit below.  At the last moment before impact, Blackheart swooped down from his battle with Riptor and scooped up Dread Wing.  Nocturna’s wings unfurled, carrying her back up on a draft of warm air.

“Keep the viper, Z’neth!” Peak heard Dread Wing yell as Blackheart flew away. “And may she bite your heel as she has mine one too many times!”

Peak sighed with relief as the gremwings and an obviously injured Fryte followed suit and flew off after Dread Wing into the gloom.  Flying over to Z’neth and Nocturna, he got right up in the blue mutant’s face.  “What was that all about?” he asked incredulously.

Nocturna gave Peak a cold look.  “Exactly what it looked like, boy.  I crossed Dread Wing for the final time, and now he is out for my blood.”

“Where were you running to, then?” Z’neth asked.

“The only place I knew I would be safe from Dread Wing, naturally – Airlandis,” Nocturna replied.

Peak sputtered with rage.  “What makes you think we would give you sanctuary after you double crossed us the last time?”

“You gave Gangryn sanctuary,” she replied coolly.

“And look where that got us!  Dread Wing almost stole our amber reactor technology!” Peak said.

“Can we stop the bickering for a minute?” Amod’s voice came over the vox box.  “We need to get these crystals back to Airlandis.”

Z’neth turned to Nocturna.  “We will offer you Sanctuary, but only on the condition that you spend the time under lockdown.  Do you agree?”

Nocturna bowed her head and closed her eyes.  “I agree,” she said, and Peak saw sorrow and defeat written on her face.  Z’neth nodded, and flew back to Riptor.

Peak, still shaking his head at this development, returned to Stormy.  _This has ‘bad idea’ written all over it_ , he thought to himself.  But Z’neth was in command.  However, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to watch Nocturna like a hawk.

She got back on her dragon, and Peak said, “One wrong move, Nocturna.  Just give me one opportunity or try to hurt my family in any way, and you’ll wish you never asked for help from us.”

She simply nodded, her face a mask, yellow eyes glowing.  Peak patted Wing Storm, and they started their ascent through the Wind Pit.

Peak knew Joshua would be furious, and probably their father as well.  Peak wondered why Z’neth was putting his neck on the line for Lady Blue again.  Had she really left Dread Wing for good?  Whatever the circumstances, it looked to Peak like a storm was headed for Airlandis.


	16. Strawberries

Prompt 16 – Strawberries

                Nocturna stretched out on the bed, relishing the fluffy pillow and soft sheets.  Despite what she sometimes thought of the humans, they knew how to live in comfort.

                Sunlight streamed in the windows of her quarters on Airlandis.  Nocturna got up, wandered to the window and sat down on the floor, knees pulled to her chest.  Her gaze moved over the white clouds and blue skies.  _Will I ever get tired of this view?_ she thought idly.  Everything here was so clean and full of light.  Not like Warnado; no, not like Warnado at all.

                Nocturna thought back to her first days here on Airlandis.  Z’neth had not only saved her from a gruesome end at Dread Wing’s claws belowclouds, but had also stood up and vouched for her before the highborn Council, taking full responsibility.  It had been a stupid decision on his part – ridiculously noble and self-sacrificing – but Nocturna found she was grateful all the same.  Nobody in all her life had ever stood by her side in such a manner.

                Still, that hadn’t stopped the Council from holding her in a cramped cell in the brig for the better part of a week.  If nothing else, it had given Nocturna time to evaluate her life.

                Nocturna had been born a nameless child of the breeding pits.  Most children were not given names until they reached their maturity, as the survival rate was low.  Her mother died when Nocturna had been very young, killed by her current lover.  Nocturna never knew who her father was, though she suspected it was one of Dread Wing’s father’s high lieutenants.  But it had never really mattered.  She was born to nothing, and her life worth less than nothing.  With her mother gone, Nocturna had stolen scraps of food to survive unnoticed in Warnado.  In her lowest moments, she had killed and eaten gremwings in order to survive.

                Nocturna could not say that she had loved her mother.  Love was not an emotion ever given time to take root and grow in the breeding pits.  Still, the Mistress of the Endless Night demanded justice, and Nocturna was the only one who cared to avenge her mother’s death.  So she had survived and forged a will of iron.  She would gain power someday, and on that day she would give the Mistress her due.

                Options were limited to those of Nocturna’s caste.  She could either become a whore like her mother or join Dread Wing’s army.  The choice had been obvious.

                The training had been awful.  Nocturna returned to her crevice every night, her body covered with welts and plasma burns.  But she had survived, even thrived in the strict atmosphere of the military.  It hadn’t taken long to gain the fear and respect of the other recruits within the first few months.

                Looking back on her life, those years of training had been the closest she had ever come to happiness while living on Old Earth.  She put on weight with regular food, and the rigorous training left her muscles taught and tight.  But any illusion of contentment died as they reached their majority.

                For that was the day that _he_ had come to look them over.  It was the first time Nocturna had ever seen Lord Asmodeus, but she recognized him instantly as the lover who had killed her mother.  Asmodeus stood seven feet tall, with mottled skin the colors of molten rock.  The Lord of Warnado had grown old, but definitely not weak.  He and his son Dread Wing were there to look over the soldiers, and review their skills for the opportunity of serving as Dread Wing’s personal guards.

                They lined up for review, and as Asmodeus’s yellow eyes passed over Nocturna with barely concealed lust, they also contained a flicker of recognition.  So perhaps the beast had not forgotten what he had done to her mother.

                “The best of you will enjoy the high honor of serving Warnado as Prince Dread Wing’s personal guard,” Asmodeus said.  “We will test your combat skills in the arena tonight.  The last one standing will be granted a name and power second only to myself and the prince.”

                Nocturna had known this would be her one chance to get close enough to Asmodeus to kill him.  Once she won the competition and ingratiated herself with the royal family, she could dispose of Warnado’s Lord with ease.

                “I have nothing.  Nothing but the will to win,” Nocturna whispered to herself over and over as she stepped onto the blood-soaked sands of the arena that night.  All around the tiered seats, mutants and Dark Dramen cheered with bloodlust at the prospect of a good fight.  Directly across from her entrance sat Asmodeus and Dread Wing, with the dragon Blackheart curling around their thrones.

                At the sound of the dragon’s roar, the contestants were released into a free-for-all.  Nocturna unfurled her wings and shot into the air while the grounded mutants knocked each other senseless.  To her delight, several of them were already down for the count.  But she was not alone in the air.  The grotesque, long-necked, tusked mutant known as Fryte – not a true name, but one given for his terrifying appearance – was flying up toward her, screaming with blood rage.  Nocturna’s clawed foot caught the horror right in the face and sent him tumbling down back into the fray.  By gaining the high ground first, Nocturna was able to fend off several other fliers with the same ease.

                As the dust settled below her, Nocturna could see only Fryte remained standing.  So, the twisted beast had actually managed to beat the rest of the fighters.  No matter – his winning streak would end with her.

                Nocturna retracted her wings upon landing, and Fryte did the same.  They circled each other for several minutes, each looking for an opening to crush the other.  Nocturna knew that Fryte was easily double her size and strength.  Still, she was far more nimble.  And more intelligent by a longshot.

                Fryte made the first move, his clawed hand shooting for her throat at lightning speed.  Nocturna executed a perfect backflip, narrowly evading his grasp.  She returned with a spinning roundhouse kick aimed at his face.  Fryte grabbed her foot out of the air, and Nocturna was savagely slammed into the sandy floor. 

                Gasping for breath, she rolled over onto her back as Fryte lunged for her again.  Using her powerful legs, Nocturna caught Fryte square in the chest, launching him backward.  She leapt up to her feet, pushing the pain away, lest it threaten to overwhelm her.  Nocturna vaulted, landing on top of Fryte, her claws at his throat, drawing the tiniest amount of blood.

                “Do you yield?” she called out.

                Fryte coughed, giving her an evil look.  “I…yield.”

                The cheers and roars of the spectators were deafening, and Nocturna relished the praise and respect that she had never before experienced.  Asmodeus called her forward, and granted her the name “Nocturna.”  Despite her hatred for the mutant king, she relished the sound of her new name on her tongue.

                As their prizes for winners of the tournament, Nocturna and Fryte were named as Dread Wing’s first and second lieutenants.  The next days were a blur to Nocturna, as she was given her own dragon and set up with a high-ranking apartment in Warnado.  The luxury of the rulers was definitely something Nocturna could see herself becoming accustomed to.

                Dread Wing, the mutant prince who had only been a means to an end for her, was the most surprising thing of all in her new life.  His lust for power nearly matched her own.  From him, she learned of the floating city of Airlandis, the dragonators and their crystal raids, and the humans’ search for a new homeland on Old Earth.

                Nocturna would be lying to say she didn’t have second thoughts about her duty to kill the king.  The power in her new position was heady and intoxicating.  It would be difficult to give that up.  But she was not without her own sense of honor.  And that demanded Asmodeus’s death.

                It was late the night she decided to finally do it.  Nocturna had stopped by the inventor Gangryn’s laboratory earlier that evening and stolen a vial of poison, coating her claws with it.  It was slow-acting, and Asmodeus would suffer.  Nocturna found comfort in that fact.

                She snuck into the king’s private quarters and concealed herself behind a large tapestry.  Thankfully, she didn’t have long to wait for the king.  She could hear Dread Wing bid his father good night, and felt a small pang of guilt for depriving another child of their parent.  Pushing it aside, she stepped from behind the tapestry and faced the king.

                He had a sad smile on his gruesome face.  “I wondered when you would come for me, Nocturna,” he said wistfully.

                She felt grateful he knew – it would make it all the easier.  “You know who I am then.  And why I am here,” she replied coldly.

                “I do,” he said.  “The Mistress of the Endless night is a harsh taskmistress, yet her cardinal rule governs our lives like a death trap.  I don’t suppose I could offer you anything to stop you from trying to complete this foolish task?  You are a skilled warrior; I would hate to have to kill you.”

                Nocturna shook her head.

                Asmodeus sighed.  “I feared as much,” he said, before launching himself at her.

                Nocturna barely had time to react, jumping out of the way.  Thinking quickly, she grabbed the tapestry and pulled it from the wall onto the king.  He pulled out a small lava gun and shot it, instantly incinerating the woven fibers. 

                “What a waste – that was my favorite tapestry,” he snarled.

                “It is fortunate that you will not have to worry about it much longer then!” Nocturna said.  She unfurled her wings and flew at Asmodeus.  His giant fist easily knocked her away, but not before she scratched his arm with her poisoned claws.

                The poison’s effect was almost instant.  Asmodeus dropped to his knees, convulsing and beginning to foam at the mouth.  The poison was working its way through his body, beginning the slow process of dissolving the king’s organs.

                “Justice is done, Mistress,” Nocturna said with a bowed head.  She used the king’s water basin to cleanse her hands of the poison before moving to the door.  Opening it, Nocturna emitted a cry as she saw Dread Wing standing there.  His hand shot to her throat, and he lifted Nocturna off the ground.

                “You have killed my father, witch,” Dread said.  It was not a question.

                “Kill me, then,” she said in a strangled whisper.

                Dread Wing’s eyes narrowed as he looked more closely at her.  “No, Nocturna,” he said, dropping her to the floor.  “In fact, you have done me a service.”  Dread Wings eyes travelled across the room to his slowly dying father.  “For you have made me Lord of Warnado.  Mark my words, though – should you ever double cross me, I shall feed you to Blackheart with nary a second thought.”

                A tear ran down Nocturna’s cheek as she remembered what had followed.  Though in a twisted way Dread Wing owed her his throne, it had not stopped him from whipping her, then later bedding her.  It had felt horrible, like she was becoming her weak mother all over again.  But her lust for power had been so strong that Nocturna had abided the treatment, as it let her stay in Dread Wing’s good graces and retain her position as his first lieutenant.

                Until that last time.  Dread Wing had let her power-mad activities slide for a long time, as he had never truly felt threatened by her.  But for a moment, she had had a plasma cannon pressed to his head in their bed before he overpowered her.  It had been enough for Dread Wing to realize she wanted his throne more than him, and that ending her life was the best solution to his problem.

                Which brought Nocturna to Airlandis. 

                After her week in the brig, Nocturna had been released to Z’neth’s custody.  He had set her up with quarters close to him (likely in order to keep a close eye on her).  She still wore an explosive tracking anklet at all times (she didn’t take the humans for complete fools after all), but Z’neth had insisted she clean up her wardrobe, and brought in Apex to help.

                Once Z’neth had left the room, Apex gave her an icy glare.  “Look Nocturna, I don’t know what your game is, but for reasons I cannot possibly comprehend my idiot brother has decided to apparently tie his fate to yours.  And so I will be watching you.  Anything you attempt will land you straight back in the brig, and any harm you cause to Z’neth or anyone else on Airlandis will be revisited to you tenfold. Is that clear?”

What was clear was that the female hated her.  “I…understand your mistrust, dragonator,” Nocturna answered.  “But there is really nothing more going on here than self-preservation.”  Which, unfortunately, was the truth.  Nocturna felt naked as she realized she had no contingency plans, no possible routes of escape.  She was truly at the mercy of the humans.

Apex rolled her eyes.  “You’ll _forgive_ me if I don’t immediately believe you.  Past history being my educational primer and all.”  She had reluctantly helped Nocturna pick a few articles of clothing from the computer database, which were later brought to the room.  Nocturna had never felt so covered up in her life.  Each of the garments could easily have made three outfits appropriate for Warnado.  But Nocturna had not expected to be so damned cold here all the time.  She found the constant cold wind absolutely miserable.

Almost as miserable as the cold glares whenever she left her quarters.  Nocturna had – at Z’neth’s insistence – taken a meal in the Replimat.  There hadn’t been a filled chair in any of the tables surrounding her.  She saw Peak and Apex at the peripheral edge of the crowd, keeping an eye on everything.

So Nocturna had decided to take her meals alone.  Until this morning.

She heard a loud knock at her door.  “It’s Z’neth,” she heard the white-haired Dragonator’s voice from the other side.

“It’s open,” Nocturna replied, rising from her seated position in the sun.

The door whooshed open, and Z’neth stepped in.  It was strange seeing her longtime adversary out of his flight uniform, but Nocturna had to admit Z’neth was quite…handsome.

“We’re going to get breakfast,” he announced, crossing his arms and looking straight at her.

She waved him off and crawled back into her soft bed.  “Not going to happen, Z’neth.  I don’t enjoy subjecting myself to public scorn and humiliation.”

Z’neth whipped off the sheets.  “If you don’t try, you’ll never work up the courage to leave this room.  Nobody will ever become accustomed to your presence here on Airlandis.”

Nocturna propped her head up on one arm and raised an eye ridge at Z’neth.  “I don’t think anyone’s dying to make my acquaintance.  Nor I theirs.”

“I don’t think that’s the truth,” he insisted.

“Why do you care anyway?  What does it matter to you if the people of Airlandis like me or not?” she snarled.

“Believe it or not, Nocturna, humans and mutants are not all that different,” he said, as she snorted with disbelief.  He went on, “If humans want any chance of making a new home on Earth, we need to find common ground with your people instead of what makes us fight each other.”

Nocturna actually laughed, a shrill cackle.  “Your naiveté is charming, Z’neth.  The only way in which we are similar is that we walk on two legs.  Not nearly enough to forge a treaty on.”  She saw his pained expression, and felt a little guilty.  But better he learn that from her than at the point of Dread Wing’s lava cannon.  Still, it would be nice to get out of the room, if only for a little while.

“All right, all right.  I’ll go with you to breakfast.  Though I warn you you’ll regret it,” she said.

Their walk to the Replimat was full of hundreds of befuddled frowns from the Airlandean citizens.  They got their food as the entirety of the hall looked on in silence, and Z’neth found them a table without much incident.  Nocturna saw his tray was filled with a variety of colorful items, while hers with the most basic of nutritional supplements.  She was just being careful – on Old Earth, the vivid food was the most likely to be poisonous.

Z’neth sighed as he caught sight of her tray.  “Here, take these,” he said, sliding a bowl of red fruits across the table to her.  “They’re not poisonous – see?” he said, spearing one with a fork and eating it.  “They’re called strawberries.”

Nocturna eyed the bowl with mistrust.  Still, after Z’neth had made such a show…

“Well, in the name of friendship and all that nonsense,” she said, taking a tentative bite.  The flavors that ran across her tongue were like nothing Nocturna had ever experienced before.  It was sweet and beautiful, like a symphony of flavor.

Z’neth smiled as he took a sip of that revolting beverage they called coffee.  “How was it?”

“I’ve had better,” Nocturna lied, spearing another berry.

“Of course,” he replied, taking another one for himself.


	17. Weapon

Prompt 17 – Weapon

                Twisters churned up the desert all around Cifex’s small hovercraft.  His instruments were all going haywire, and his optical sensors could barely make out anything more than fifty feet in either direction.  For the thousandth time, he wished he could have found a working aircraft in the military base.  Still, his trusty little hovercraft had proven its worth time and time again – she was a sturdy little vehicle, without a doubt.

                Following the maps he had downloaded from the 30th Century military base, Cifex had spent months following a lead of dead ends.  All the potential human settlements he had uncovered so far had been either completely wiped away, or rusted out hulks.  There hadn’t been a sign of human life in any of them.  Granted, his info was roughly a millennium out of date.

                What was it with him and deserts?  The sands blew all around, and Cifex decided that enough was enough for today.  According to the data his ship had gathered before the storms blew in, there should be a gorge somewhere nearby.  Moving in the perceived direction (or as near as he could tell, given his instruments unwillingness to cooperate), Cifex hoped he wouldn’t go off the edge into it without warning.

                “Computer, please send out an electro-scanning pulse,” he said.  The ship sent the pulse, but it dissipated quickly in the whirling sands.  Cifex set the ship to continue sending out pulses at five-second intervals.  After nearly an hour of this slow search, Cifex almost missed the computer finally registering the gorge on his scan.  Shifting his heading, Cifex sent the craft coasting toward the protected safety of the ravine.

                As he got closer, however, the gorge wasn’t the only thing that his electro-scanning pulses revealed.  Located in the center of the canyon was a ziggurat-shaped edifice.  Referencing his settlement information with the closest approximation he could get of the gorge’s coordinates, Cifex found a hit under “Starship Explorer.”  Well, it certainly didn’t look like a space-faring vessel was down there, so he was doubly curious.

                Cifex maneuvered his hovercraft slowly down the side of the gorge, praying his stabilizers would hold out long enough to reach the bottom.  When he finally leveled out, Cifex was impressed by the ziggurat’s size.  It looked like there were shields set around the base, obscuring any type of doorway or entrance.  Cifex brought the hovercraft between the shields and the ziggurat, glad that it fit between the two and was therefore shielded from any outside observers.  Plus, it was nice to finally be out of the wind.

                Cifex booted up his holo-cube memory of Apex before opening the hatch and hopping out of the hovercraft.  The hologram had become something of a good-luck charm for him before entering any possible settlements.  He also grabbed a pulse-laser pistol on his way out.  No sense in going in with luck alone on his side. 

                His cloak whispered around him as Cifex made his way toward the entrance.  The building was obviously ancient, the stone lichen-covered.  On closer inspection, however, Cifex noticed that the stones were in perfect shape, with nary a scratch on their surface.  The door was a metal alloy Cifex was unfamiliar with.  With some surprise, he noticed there wasn’t even a hint of rust on it.

                Pulling the door open, Cifex stared into the darkness.  His optical sensors adjusted to the gloom, and what he saw was incredible.  Banks of panels and monitors stood surrounding a central gazebo-like structure.  All of the technology appeared to be in perfect working order, though in a powered-down mode.

                His mind was scrolling through memory files as fast as his neuroprocessor would allow.  What was this place?  It was definitely not a 30th Century military installation; if the coordinates were correct, it had something to do with a _Starship Explorer_.  But this building was obviously no spaceship. 

                Cifex moved to the central structure, but did not enter it.  It vaguely resembled the teleportation pads he had seen used for shock troop movements during the war.  Site to site teleportation had been a new technology before the Cataclysm, but during the dark days many of the teleporter pads stopped functioning.  Could this installation be an intergalactic, functional version of those teleporters? 

                Going back to the nearest terminal, Cifex booted it up.  Instantly, a man’s face appeared on the screen.  “Greetings, visitors,” it said.  “I am Captain Jonathan Lands of the _Starship Explorer_.  We are a civilian transport with 20,000 passengers bound for the outer limits of the galaxy in hopes of finding a new world to call home.  The portal you see in front of you is a direct link to _Explorer_ , and the door is always open to any other survivors who will join us.”

                Cifex sat back in the chair – well, this certainly helped his computations as to what had happened to many of the surviving human colonies.  It appeared that most of the humans had left Earth in the centuries following the Cataclysm, beaming themselves to the _Starship Explorer_.  Remembering the horrors of that period, Cifex found he couldn’t blame them.  Between space and Airlandis, Cifex wondered if there really were any humans left down here on Old Earth. 

                The question now was...should he attempt a trip through the portal and see what was on the other side? Cifex was hesitant to risk going through; if this portal was unidirectional, he would be stuck in whatever place he ended up (provided the portal still had a reception site on the other end and didn't just scatter his atoms across the cosmos). 

                If he didn't at least attempt it, Cifex felt the central thrust of his quest might end up in vain. If the vast majority of humanity had left Earth behind, he had a duty to find out. Cifex brought up the portal controls and tried to interface his systems with them. With any luck, he could activate a pullback protocol that would bring him back to Old Earth after a set amount of time. The system was newer than him, however, and it took his central processor several hours to sift through the terraquads of data stored to in the computers to run the complex systems that controlled the portal. 

                Finally, he found the relevant systems and began to work with them, changing the portal's command codes to suit his needs. After several hours of reprogramming, Cifex was confident that the gateway would bring him back, provided there was anything left to bring back. He set the controls for one hour. 

                Cifex took one last look at the holocube of Apex before tucking it back into his pocket. He holstered his pulse-laser pistol, drew his cloak around his shoulder, and stepped into the portal. 

                Lightning arced all around him, dancing over his body but not harming him. Cifex's vision turned to white, and he was both weightless and formless. Though he had no vision, Cifex felt stars and galaxies racing past him, supernovas exploding, interstellar dust swirling and forming planets. 

                And in an instant, it was all over. Cifex breathed a sigh of relief as he saw his body completely whole and unharmed. Looking around, he saw himself on a transporter pad, surrounded on all sides by windows looking out onto the cosmos. The experience was breathtaking. What appeared to be a hallway made of glass led off toward a central structure. The _Explorer_ , perhaps? If so, shouldn't there be people here monitoring the teleporter? Perhaps it had been so long since anyone had come through that the system had been abandoned. 

                Cifex made his way down the hallway, marveling at the ingenuity of such a design. It felt as though he were walking through space itself. As he neared the end of the tunnel, his aural sensors picked up a sound coming from nearby. Filtering it through his database, Cifex recognized the sound as piano music. 

                The glass tunnel ended in a nondescript hallway. Cifex turned to his left, heading toward the sound of the piano music. It was a beautiful, if sad melody that he was able to hear. Rounding a corner, Cifex saw the back of a woman in a purple dress. Her golden hair was tied loosely up, and she sat at a golden piano that was surrounded by the glass walls, letting the stars shine in. 

                "Um...hello," Cifex said. The woman jumped slightly, startled at the sudden greeting. She turned around slowly, as if in a dream, and Cifex was strongly reminded of Apex and her brothers. 

                "Who are you?" she asked, obviously still shocked by his sudden appearance. 

                "My name is Cifex," he answered. "I'm from Old Earth. Who are you, and where am I?" 

                "You are on the _Starship Explorer_ ," the woman answered, suddenly smiling. "And my name is Iranda."


	18. Beach

Prompt 18: Beach

The sim-sun shone down over a beautiful day in Biosphere Two.  Granted, when you controlled the weather conditions it was always a beautiful day, Aaron thought with a chuckle as he shaded his eyes and looked over the sparkling waters of their ocean habitat.

It had taken pleading, cajoling, and massive amounts of shift trading, but for the first time in almost a year Aaron, his four children, Orak, his niece and nephew, and all the children’s significant others had managed to get a holiday off together.  Aaron had even managed to get his son Dram back to Airlandis today.

New Year was always a special day of celebration in their community.  There were parties hosted all across the city, gifts were given to family and friends, and a general air of goodwill permeated the floating city.  Dragonators worked hard leading up to the holiday to gather a huge stash of amber crystals, in order to have a few well-deserved weeks of rest.

Aaron and Apex had come early to pitch a few umbrellas in the sand and get all the food set up.  Between the two of them, Aaron was delighted that they’d been able to override a food replicator’s protocols and produce a lavish feast.  Orak had even promised he would bring a fire canister later so that they could roast the marshmallows.

Summit and Miriam arrived first, dressed in their beach clothes and carrying a load of rebreathers for swimming.

“I’ve never gotten to see the whales up close!” Miriam exclaimed with excitement.  “This is going to be wonderful.”

“See, there are advantages to dating Summit after all,” Apex quipped.

“Aside from always being in the presence of such a handsome specimen?” Summit teased.  Apex whacked him on the arm and Miriam laughed.

The four of them chatted amicably and continued setting up for a few minutes before Peak and Nora flew in, dressed in their dragonator gear.  “What’s the emergency?” Nora asked, obviously having been told there was something other than a party day going on in Biosphere Three.

Summit pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Really, Peak?”

“What?  How else was I supposed to get her here?” the young dragonator asked.

Apex sighed and looked at the bewildered Nora.  “There’s no emergency Nora.  Unless you can count Peak’s rapid loss of brain function an emergency.  He was supposed to just invite you here to spend New Year’s with us.”

Light dawned in Nora’s eyes.  “So that’s why he didn’t want me to volunteer for the extra shift today.”  Whirling on Peak, she added, “You could have just asked!  I’m not dressed for a day at the beach!”

“Not a problem, Nora,” Aaron said, floating over to a locker set off from the beach area.  He entered a code and pulled out two diving outfits, throwing one each to Peak and Nora.  “Changing rooms are back that way,” he said with a grin.

“Yes sir,” Nora said with a salute.

Aaron shook his head and sighed. “Please, today I am simply Aaron, and you are the charming companion my son has decided to bring to a family gathering.”

Nora reddened.  “Yes si- I mean Aaron,” she said.

Aaron laid a hand on Nora’s shoulder.  “We’re glad you’re here today.  Please just relax and have a good time.”

Turning back to the group, Aaron saw Orak, Zarkan, and Amod had arrived.  “Look who I found to carry all my junk!” the old engineer cackled as Zarkan and Amod lugged the fire canister between them.

“Always delighted to be your packdragon, Uncle,” Zarkan said, dropping the canister with a groan and massaging his arm.

Apex laughed.  “Well, you will be delighted when you taste the toasted marshmallows!  I even found something in the historical database called S’mores that I can’t wait to try.”

Amod looked around.  “Where’s Z’neth?  Wasn’t he able to get the day off?”

“That’s been a point of…contention,” Aaron admitted.

“He wants to bring the mutie,” Peak added as he and Nora emerged wearing their swimming gear.  “And Apex got a little threatening.”

Apex sniffed.  “I simply said I wasn’t wild about him bringing _her_ to a family day.”                             

“Now Apex,” Aaron said, “I’m sure Nocturna is just as nervous as you are about this.  Please at least try to get along; for me if nothing else.”

Apex kissed her father on the cheek.  “For you, daddy.  But that doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it.”

*****

                “I feel stupid, Z’neth,” Nocturna said bluntly as the two of them walked down the golden hallways on their way to the biosphere chamber.  “Your family obviously doesn’t want me there, and the feeling is pretty mutual.”

                The white-haired dragonator simply shook his head and sighed.  “We’ve been over this a thousand times, Lady Blue.  If you don’t get out there and show people they don’t need to be afraid of you, nothing will ever change.”

                “What if I don’t want anything to change?” Nocturna retorted.  “What if I’m perfectly fine with the way things are now?”

                “And what if I don’t believe that for a second?” Z’neth answered.  Nocturna let out an exasperated breath, obviously admitting defeat for the moment.

                “Just promise me that you’ll let me leave if things start to get ugly?” she pleaded.

                “Sure – but I’m counting on you to not let things get to that point,” Z’neth said with a wink.

                They arrived in the central dome that housed the biospheres, and Z’neth called down one of the floating elevators.  As it slid into place and they boarded, Dram came running in and joined them.  Z’neth hugged his brother, and Nocturna gave a quiet nod, which Dram returned.

                The elevator moved swiftly and silently to its docking position on the outer ring of Biosphere Three.  Z’neth led them through the decontamination room, and into the balmy air of the Ocean Biosphere.  Nocturna was surprised at the beauty – the white sand and blue water, with lush vegetation growing at the far edges.  Truly no place still existed like this on Old Earth.

                Z’neth and Dram waved to their family, and Nocturna followed meekly behind, unsure of what to do.  Z’neth was still largely the only person she associated with in Airlandis since she had taken Sanctuary there several months ago.  This large of a group made her keenly uncomfortable.  As they came up on the group, Nocturna saw they were playing with a rousing game of hoverball, bouncing the floating sphere back and forth.

                “Welcome to an Airlandean New Year,” Aaron said as he noticed their arrival, extending a hand of friendship to her.

                “Delighted,” Nocturna replied, taking his hand with some trepidation.  Z’neth beckoned her to join the game, but Nocturna waved him off, opting instead to sit underneath a shade tree.  Despite her fondest hopes of being left alone, Aaron came to sit by her.

                “How are you adjusting to life here in Airlandis?” he asked.

                Nocturna couldn’t look him in the eye.  “It is more…difficult than I had expected.  I am feared, hated.  Not without good reason, of course.  But I have nothing to do here aside from wallowing in my own self-pity; I feel more useless than ever.”

                Aaron simply nodded.  “You come from a position of some power in Warnado.  It is only natural you mourn that.  But if I may, I would like to offer you an opportunity.  My son Dram has recently started a position as Ambassador to the United Dramen Council, leaving a position open on Dragonator Team Two.  I was wondering if you would like to fill that position?”

                Nocturna was stunned.  Could the father of the Dragon Flyz actually be offering her a position as one of them?  “I’m not sure; please give me time to consider your offer,” she answered truthfully.

                “I understand.  This is a large decision, though I promise you won’t be bored _and_ you would have the opportunity to stretch your wings,” Aaron said.  He got up and floated over to the food spread.

                The rest of the day passed in a blur for Nocturna.  Z’neth finally managed to drag her into a hoverball game, much to some of the rest of the group’s barely hidden displeasure.  The best part of the day, however, was seeing the creatures that lived beneath the crystal clear waters in the biosphere.  There were no large bodies of water so clear on Old Earth, and no animals as beautiful as the whales to fill them.  Nocturna felt her world expanding as she gazed endlessly at the huge animals’ graceful aquatic ballet.

                The sun was setting as the group emerged from the water, and Orak and Aaron had lighted the fire canister.  A warm glow surrounded them, and Nocturna didn’t immediately dismiss the strange food Z’neth called a ‘S’more.’  In fact, she found she quite liked it.

                It was a strange feeling, this liking things.  But one she could definitely become accustomed to.


	19. Lost

Prompt 19: Lost

                Iranda turned slowly on the piano bench, startled by the voice behind her.  The stranger - or was he? - looked so familiar, like a face remembered from a dream.  Iranda often dreamed of dragonators, so it was no surprise that this figment of her imagination looked like one.

                "Mother, is it really you?  It's me, Peak!" he said.

                _Peak, my baby_.  What cruel tricks was her mind playing on her now?  But in her dreams, Peak had always been a small child.  This was a young man - sixteen, seventeen - standing before her.

                He looked the right age to be her son...could it really be?  

                Filled with a mixture of dread and joy, Iranda reached out her hand toward the young man standing in front of her.  His face was written across with such intense emotions, mirroring her own.  Suddenly, violently, his body vanished in an intense flash of light, leaving Iranda alone in the music room.

                She stood in a daze for what seemed like hours.  What had just transpired?  Was it simply a delusion of a lonely mind, cooking up an image of her Peak?

                _I'm a scientist, dammit,_  Iranda thought.  Pushing aside her wistful thoughts, she ran down the glass hallway to the transporter pad.  She had lived in the apartment closest to the teleporter for years now, with the hope that someday someone from Old Earth would come through and find her.  In the seventeen years she had been stuck on the _Starship Explorer_ , Iranda had never given up hope that her family would find her.  She had tried for years to rig the teleportation system to send her back to Earth, but it was a one-way trip designed to be controlled from the Star Ridge control center pyramid only.  She couldn't even send back a communication to her family.

                When she had arrived, Iranda created quite a stir among the humans living on the _Explorer_.  No one had come through the portal in hundreds of years.  The _Explorer_ was a generation ship by now – the many times great grandchildren of the original explorers still continued their journey through the cosmos.  Often, large groups of travelers had disembarked on favorable planets, and it gladdened Iranda to know that humankind existed in places throughout the galaxy. 

                Iranda had met with Captain Suri Lands (the descendant of Capt. Jonathan Lands), and told her of the fate that had befallen Earth since the ship’s departure.  Iranda had told her story hundreds of times to any group that wanted to hear it, in the hopes that someone would know how to help send her home.  When it became apparent that the secrets of the long-distance portal technology had been lost to the current generation, Iranda had made it her work to restore that knowledge.

                Iranda arrived in the transporter room and performed a service sweep of the pad.  With a sigh of relief, she noted that it had recently accepted a human.  _So I’m not going completely crazy after all_ , she thought.  Iranda had long ago set up a holo-recorder to capture the image of anyone who came across.  Pulling the data, Iranda felt hot tears streaming down her cheeks as the image of Peak materialized into focus.  She scrutinized every detail - he had her face, but his eyes – oh, his eyes were still the same sky blue as Aaron’s.  There was now no doubt that her son had been here, if even only for a moment.  She wept openly, deep sobs wracking her body, thinking of her husband and everything she had so foolishly left behind in pursuit of her quest for a new home.  Iranda understood now that the only home that meant anything to her was where her family was.  Airlandis.

                If Peak was here, did that mean he had forgiven her for all the lost years?  Iranda hoped so.

                Iranda was nearly climbing the walls with frustration as the days passed by after that.  She kept the holo of Peak on a chain around her neck, staring at it endlessly.  Days turned into weeks, and weeks to months, however, with no new sign of her family.  If they had been able to send Peak through, why hadn’t a second attempt been made?  Had something happened to the Star Ridge? 

                In an attempt to take her mind off of the problem at hand, Iranda threw herself back into her work of understanding the portal.  If – no, _when_ – she returned to Old Earth, Iranda wanted to at least bring as much scientific knowledge with her as possible.  The computer systems on the _Explorer_ might not be as elegant as the amber-based ones from Airlandis, but there were still many wonderful technologies she could share with her old friend Orak.

                When she became simply too frustrated to bear it any longer, Iranda went to the piano and played her song.  It soothed her frayed nerves every time, the lilting melody washing away all her stress and letting her refocus, even if only for a moment.

                "Um...hello," a voice ruptured her reverie. 

                Iranda turned around, bewildered by the man’s sudden appearance.  He was tall and broad shouldered, with a military outfit and a mohawk haircut.  He was certainly unlike anyone she had ever met on the ship.  "Who are you?" she asked. 

                "My name is Cifex," he answered. "I'm from Old Earth. Who are you, and where am I?" 

                "You are on the _Starship Explorer_ ," Iranda answered, a huge grin suddenly splitting her face. "And my name is Iranda."

                The man seemed to look at her, as if trying to place her face.  “Pardon me for saying, but you seem very familiar to me,” he said.

                “You say you’re from Old Earth?” she answered.  “I originally came from Airlandis.”

                His eyes widened at the mention of the name.  “You’re from the floating city?  How is that possible?  From what I can tell, people haven’t used the portals in a few hundred years.”

                Iranda nodded.  “That’s right.  I was the most recent, up until you.” 

                “So you went through the portal in the desert canyon?” he asked.

                “No…the portal I went through was in a star-shaped ridge,” Iranda said.  Suddenly very excited, she added, “Do you know the coordinates of the portal you came through?”

                Cifex gave her the coordinates, which she plugged into her map of Old Earth on a data pad.  Comparing the two locations, Iranda was shocked to see they were on completely different continents.  “How long have you been travelling from Airlandis, Cifex?” she said.  “I wasn’t aware that the city sanctioned long-term field missions.”

                Cifex gave her a little quirky smile.  “I said I was from Old Earth, but I didn’t say Airlandis.  I visited once and met someone very special,” he said, and Iranda saw him fingering a small holocube in his hand.  “I’ve been on a mission since then to search for any survivors left on Old Earth and destroy Cataclysm-era weapon caches.”

                “But how have you survived on Old Earth for so long?  Between the mutants, Dark Dramen, and the lava beasts, most humans wouldn’t survive a week on their own,” Iranda said.

                Cifex sighed.  “I’m…not exactly human.  I’m an android genetic construct.”

                Iranda’s hand went to her mouth involuntarily.  “But then you’re from…”

                Cifex sat down on the floor.  “Yes.  I originally came online in the 30th Century.”

                Iranda looked down on him from her piano bench. “It’s a story I want to hear, Cifex.  Which, by the way, you’ll have plenty of time to tell.  In case you didn’t know, it’s a one-way trip to the _Explorer._   I’ve been stuck here for seventeen years.”

                “Not anymore, Miss,” he answered.  “I’m fairly sure I rigged the portal system to bring me back in an hour.”

                 Iranda could hear the gentle hum of the ship’s engines, as suddenly everything had gone quiet.  “You mean…I could go back?” she whispered, afraid to say it out loud, lest she find herself awakening from another dream.

                “Well, theoretically anyway,” Cifex answered.  “I have to see if it will work on me.”

                 Iranda glanced at her chrono and realized that Cifex’s time was almost up.  “Then before you leave, Cifex, let me ask you something.”

                “Of course,” he said.  “What can I tell you?”

                 Iranda sucked in a deep breath.  “When you were in Airlandis, did you see any of my family?  My husband is named Aaron and I have four children: Z’neth, Summit, Apex, and Peak.  They are likely all dragonators like their father.”

                It was Cifex’s turn to go completely silent for almost a minute before he activated his holocube.  An image of a beautiful, smiling young woman materialized.

                “Apex,” Iranda breathed, tears running down her face.  “My daughter.”  She held up her own holocube, and Peak’s image came into focus next to Apex.

                “I think we have a lot to talk about,” Cifex said, throwing his arms around Iranda in a tight hug, “If we’re going to bring you home.”


	20. Cry

Prompt 20: Cry

Apex recoiled as a blast erupted from her Wind Jammer, roaring through a cluster of Gremwings and sending them plummeting back to Old Earth.  She fired again and again at the monstrous creatures, trying to protect her dragon Blaze Wind - and their precious amber crystal cargo - from the razor teeth and needle-sharp talons of the Gremwings.  All around Apex, her brothers Z’neth, Summit, and Peak were engaged in similar battles. 

Picking off the few remaining Gremwings with ease, Apex scanned the battle for any sign of the mutant overlord Dread Wing or one of his generals.  At first she couldn’t see anything, but after a moment her eyes spied the gruesome Fryte flying on a collision course for Z’neth.  Yelling with rage, Apex jumped off of Blaze and activated her Exo-wings.  The wings spread from her armored suit, carrying Apex hurtling through the air toward Fryte.

Just as the mutant general was activating his plasma cannon and firing toward Z’neth, Apex slammed into him, sending the fiery discharge into a group of Gremwings, incinerating them.  Apex wrestled with Fryte as they plummeted toward the magma lake below.  She landed a few good punches on the mutant, but heard a sickening crack in her arm as he struck back.

“Nobody harms my family, monster!” she yelled, discharging her Wind Jammer right in Fryte’s face.  The force blew them apart and sent Fryte flying as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

Apex was about to chase after him despite her likely broken arm, but heard Z’neth calling to her.  “Let him go, Apex!  It’s more important that we get these ambers back to Airlandis.”

She nodded grimly, remounting Blaze Wind and retracting her exo-wings.  The Dragon Flyz made their way to the nearest series of Wind Pits - the huge hollow mountains scattered across the continent that provided safe passage through the Warp Winds.  Without the protection of the Winds Pits, attempting to cross through the Warp Winds and get back to the floating city of Airlandis wound be tantamount to suicide.

Apex’s arm pulsed with an intense, throbbing pain.  Angry with herself for letting Fryte injure her so badly, Apex rooted around in her saddle compartment for one of her sublingual analgesic tablets.  Apex placed it under her tongue and felt a cooling sensation as it dissolved and took the edge off of her aching arm.

Blaze wove through the honeycomb spikes and protrusions inside the Wind Pit as they flew toward the top.  _Stay with me, Apex_ , her dragon mentally commanded.  Leaving the fetid stench of Old Earth behind, the air began to turn clearer and colder the higher the dragonators flew.  They emerged from the Wind Pit above a sea of clouds, with bright sunlight shining everywhere.  Apex’s helmet adjusted its tint automatically to shield her eyes.

The tops of a few smaller Wind Pits broke through the cloud layer that covered the Warp Winds, but what dominated the view was Airlandis itself, coming to meet them.

The floating city, with its golden domes and soaring spires, was the last great refuge of humanity.  Constructed shortly after the Great Cataclysm that had decimated the Earth’s surface and created the Warp Winds over a millennia before, Airlandis was kept aloft by the precious cargo of Amber crystals that the Dragon Flyz carried back from the lava pits of Old Earth.

“Skywatch, this is Dragonator One.  Please prepare for landing,” Apex heard her brother Z’neth call through the vox box.  He looked over at Apex and their brother Summit.  “Please have the medical team meet us at the landing as well.”

Blaze Wind landed on the golden promontory, his thoughts swimming with concern for his rider, and Apex dismounted, cradling her right arm and moving with some difficulty.  Glancing at Summit, she could see a nasty plasma burn on his leg.  Her field analgesic was beginning to wear off, and as the pain of her broken arm began to overtake her, Apex collapsed on the waiting anti-grav stretcher.

Her little brother Peak’s face was hovering over her as her vision swam.  “What’s wrong?  Is she going…” Apex heard him say before she succumbed to the pain and blacked out.

*****

When Apex awoke, she was lying in a bio-bed in the medical bay.  Her arm throbbed, but was sealed in a stasis field.

"Glad to see you finally woke up," Summit said from the bed beside her.  His leg was in a stasis field, and Apex grimaced as she saw the nasty plasma burn fully revealed.

"How long was I out?" Apex croaked, her throat dry as the desert.

Summit shrugged as best he could in a supine position.  "A few hours.  Z'neth is mad, by the way.  He said you took an unnecessary risk in going head-on with Fryte."

Apex snorted.  "Like he doesn't take worse risks all the time.  It's part of the business."

Miriam - Summit's girlfriend and a genetic researcher for Airlandis - appeared in the doorway to their room.  "Well, neither of you will be taking any such risks for at least a good week.  You, Apex, came back to us with a set of particularly nasty multiple fractures, and you," she whirled on Summit, "had to have wound debridement in order to have any chance of that burn healing up nicely."

"A week?" Apex groaned.  "What am I supposed to do for a week?  Z'neth has us on active duty for three more crystal runs in the next few days!"

Miriam pushed her glasses back up on her nose and shot Apex an irritated look.  "I don't care if Joshua himself orders you out on a run.  My medical clearance overrules, and I'm confining you to inactive duty until I deem that arm is in good enough shape.  I'm sure Aaron will find some lovely desk job to occupy the two of you for a week.  The man has mountains of reports to sift through from the _Aristotle_ mission, you know.  Or you could help out in Skywatch."

Apex's head fell back on the pillow with a sigh.  The last thing she wanted right now was a load of free time for her brain to spin itself a few more webs.  She needed to work it out, to concentrate on her job instead of the memories that threatened to overwhelm her.

                “You two will be staying overnight,” Miriam said, “but I should be able to release you tomorrow morning.  Just try not to move your injured limbs and let the stasis field do its job.”  Miriam adjusted a few of the settings on their stasis fields before leaving the room. 

                Apex tried to sleep.  Oh, she tried harder than anything to lose herself in the peaceful bliss of oblivion.  But after hours of listening to Summit’s slow, steady breathing, Apex knew it would be a long night.  Memories swirled through her head – memories of Cifex, of her mother.

                _Why does it feel like I lose everyone I love?_ she mused.  Apex loved her brothers and her father more than anything, of course, but losing Cifex had re-opened the wounds left by her mother Iranda’s absence.  Apex could hear her mother’s haunting piano melody ringing through her head.

                Dark clouds swirled outside of Apex’s window in the light of the full moon.  Tomorrow, Airlandis would likely enter that storm in order to collect fresh rain water.  Looking at the chrono, Apex cursed, seeing it was just past o-three-hundred.  Rolling over with a groan, Apex hit her call light.  A nurse appeared a moment later, and Apex requested a sleeping pill, which finally let her enter a dreamless unconsciousness.

                The next morning, Apex and Summit were released to Aaron’s care.  Father fussed over the two of them before Apex shooed him out of the door of their quarters and off to Skywatch.  He promised to check up on them later that day.

                Rain from the storm pattered against their windows, and Summit put on old holofilms to pass the time.  The two of them laughed and cried, and Apex couldn’t remember the last time she and her siblings had all sat down to spend some time together; sometimes it felt like dragonator duties consumed all of them.  Mid-afternoon, Apex scrounged up some soup from the food replicator (because she was the one who could walk, after all, even though maneuvering soup bowls with one arm proved to be trickier than she would have guessed).

                “Play me a song, Summit,” Apex asked after she tried to clear the dishes.

                Summit leaned back in the chair and gave her a skeptical look.  “You sure?  I’m pretty rusty on the piano these days.”

                “Don’t try and play modest with me, Summit,” she replied.  “You’re the one who inherited mother’s musical sense, and I know you’ve been practicing for Miriam.”

                Summit reddened at that. “Well, I did want to surprise her at the talent show.”

                Apex smiled as she helped her brother over to the piano bench.  “Good, then pretend I’m Miri and show me your dress rehearsal.”

                Summit rolled his eyes.  “Just don’t get your expectations up.  The song is far from perfect.”

                As Summit’s long fingers danced over the keys, Apex closed her eyes and sat up against her brother on the piano bench.  The song started out soft, with graceful trills and arpeggios, before Summit abruptly changed to dark minor chords.  In her mind’s eye, Apex could see graceful dragon shapes soaring through the skies in a pitched battle as the song reached its climax.  After the pounding chords of the climax, Apex sucked in a breath as Summit weaved their mother’s theme into the finale.  Tears stung at the corners of her closed eyes as the final notes reverberated through the apartment.

                “That was wonderful, Summit,” Apex said quietly.  “The end was especially lovely.”

                He turned his head slowly toward her.  “Ever since we saw mother’s message, I wasn’t able to get that song out of my head again,” he said sadly.

                Apex nodded.  “Me either,” she added simply, using her good arm to wrap around Summit’s broad shoulders.

                “Yo, how are my fave invalids?” Peak’s voice sounded across the apartment as the door slid open.

                “Still alive, little bro,” Summit said, as Apex helped him up from the piano.

                Peak made a sad face.  “Aw man, I missed Summie playing some tunes!  I wanna get sick now too!”

                Apex laughed hard, losing her grip on Summit and sending them both tumbling to the floor in a pile of twisted limbs.

                “What’s going on in here?” Z’neth said, appearing in the doorway.  “It sounds like a circus.”

                “Oh, the usual,” Apex replied, accepting her older brother’s hand as he helped her up and rechecked her arm.  Despite the pain of the fall, Apex found herself smiling.  It had been ages since she had just spent time with one of her brothers.  Maybe breaking her arm would turn out better than expected after all.


	21. Aloof

Prompt 21: Aloof

                “No, no, no!” Nora said with an exasperated sigh.  “The Wind Jammer is a precision tool – you’re firing it like a lava gun!”

                Nora wondered for the thousandth time why she had ever been crazy enough to accept this job.  Training Nocturna to be a member of the Dragonator Corps was proving far more problematic than she had ever originally anticipated.

                The blue mutant female rolled her golden eyes as she took aim at another target.  “I’ve been on the receiving end of these enough times to know that’s not true,” Nocturna sassed back.

                Nora tried to control her rapidly building temper.  “Of course when we’re fighting hordes of gremwings were going to change the pulse to maximum dispersion.  We want to knock as many of those creatures from the sky possible with a single shot.”

                “And here I thought you were always aiming for me,” Nocturna said.

                Nora marched back to the mutant and adjusted the setting on the Wind Jammer, desperately trying to not rise to the backhanded insults being bandied about.  “Look here,” Nora said, pointing to a small readout on Nocturna’s armband.  “This is the control panel for changing from a pulse to beam, and also controlling the dispersion ratio of the shot.  Nora quickly changed it from pulse to beam, and narrowed the beam setting to the minimum.  “Now give it a try.”

                Nocturna looked skeptical but aimed for the next target and fired the Wind Jammer.  A thin, cutting beam shot out and sliced the target cleanly in half.

                “Do you see what I mean?” Nora said.  “Wind Jammers can cut through solid rock given enough time on that setting.”

                “Looks like you might not be just another pretty face after all,” Nocturna said, raising an eye ridge.

                Nora worked with Nocturna for another hour, this time practicing with the moving robotic targets that the dragonators had programmed to match known gremwings flight patterns.  Nora was sweating by the end, and she could see Nocturna was winded as well.

                “I’ll never say you dragonators don’t take your training seriously,” Nocturna said as she finally pulled off the Wind Jammer gauntlet and returned it to Nora.  They certainly weren’t at the point that Nocturna could carry a weapon around Airlandis, even if she could train with one.

                Nocturna left the training area, and Nora put away a few things before she saw a call coming through on her vox.  A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth despite her best effort as Nora saw it was Peak calling.  The two of them had been spending a lot of time together recently, though Nora wasn’t sure she wanted it to be anything official at the moment.

                “Whatcha doing for dinner, babe?” Peak asked.

                Nora never had any plans; Peak should know that by now.  “Nothing much, just grabbing something in the Replimat,” she replied.  “Why, are you thinking of joining me?” she teased, her voice coy.

                “I’m always up for the Replimat mystery meat if it’s with you,” Peak said.  “Catch you there in a half hour?”

                “Count on it,” Nora replied before signing off.  She was never sure what her and Peak really had going on.  There was friendship for sure, but ever since he had tricked her into spending New Year’s with his family…well, it felt like there might be something more.  She had kissed him at the Dragonator Ball too.  Looking back, Nora couldn’t say why she had done it; maybe it was the music and the champagne and the stars.  But that was just silly.  Nora had never been the kind of girl swayed by those ridiculous things.

                Nora pushed all that aside as she finished writing her daily report on Nocturna’s training for Z’neth.  Booking it to the Replimat, Nora waved to Peak from across the crowded dining room.  He had reserved a table for two.  Sometimes it was just them, and other times she was sure he made a point to have her sit and interact with the other dragonators more.

                “So,” Peak said as she settled down at the table with her tray.  “How was your lesson with Lady Blue?”

                “We made progress on the Wind Jammers, but not much else.  Peak, I still don’t understand why Z’neth thought it would be good for me to teach Nocturna.  Surely he or Apex would be more qualified,” Nora said.

                “Dunno,” Peak said, spearing a slice of the mystery meat on his fork.  “But I think he specifically wanted to distance himself from all her activities here on Airlandis.  People are starting to talk, you know.”

                Nora almost choked on her tea.  She started to cough.  “Wait, you mean…?” she asked, giving Peak an incredulous look.

                Peak put up his hands.  “Hey, I just said people are starting to talk.  I have no idea; but do me a favor and don’t mention that around Apex.  She nearly ripped me a new one when I made a joke about it the other day.”

                “Well, putting that aside, I put in my report that Nocturna will probably be ready for her first belowclouds mission in a couple of weeks,” Nora said.  “And I _do_ think it would be better to have Z’neth there.”

                They discussed possible training mission sites for a bit longer before Peak remembered he was scheduled to leave for a crystal run later than evening.  As he was getting up from their table, he turned back to Nora and asked, “So, the talent show is in a couple of weeks.  Summit is playing a song he wrote, and all of the family is going.  I was wondering if you’d like to go with me?”

                “You mean like a date?” Nora asked, trying to hold an expressionless look on her face.

                Peak scratched the back of his head.  “Well, yeah.  A date.  You know, when two people who like each other do something fun together?”

                “Well, since you put it that way,” Nora said.  “Because I do in fact like you, I would be happy to be your date for the evening.”

                Peak blushed as he moved closer back to Nora.  “And how about evenings after that?”

                “One day at a time, tiger,” Nora quipped, giving Peak a shy smile.  “You’re going to ruin my steely, unapproachable reputation at this rate.”


	22. Blood

Prompt 22: Blood

                Dread Wing sat on his throne, claws drumming on the armrest.  Being in the symbol of his absolute power was often enough to clear his black mood, but not today.  Today, the Lord of Warnado had been betrayed by his First Lieutenant, and subsequently lost her to the custody of the Dragon Flyz.  Dread Wing had no expectation that Nocturna would hold her tongue regarding his secrets; if anything, she would reveal all his weaknesses in order to ingratiate herself with the Dragon Flyz.

                Dread Wing’s massive hand grasped the crystal on the armrest and he squeezed hard, cracking the amber between his claws.  His course was decided, then; he would have to strike down the traitor and Airlandis first.

                “Gangryn!” Dread bellowed.  Moments later, his spindly inventor crept through the doorway.

                With an appropriately low bow, Gangryn said, “What can I do to serve you, most illustrious Dread Wing?”

                “You can make Warnado operational again, Gangryn,” Dread Wing, “Else I shall feed you to the lava beasts.”

                Dread Wing wanted to chuckle at the terrified look that came across Gangryn face.  “But my Lord, the ship was severely damaged after we crashed the last time! I’m not sure I can get the engines operational again!”

                “Then find me new engines, Gangryn!  I will not sit here idly and wait for Nocturna’s betrayal to bear fruit.  No, we will make our final assault on Airlandis and crush the floating city.  Warnado will be the supreme air power in the world!” Dread Wing yelled, getting into the smaller mutant’s face for good effect.  “You have full permission to pull my armies to help you accomplish this.  Getting Warnado operational again is your top priority as of this moment, Gangryn.  Now be gone from my sight.”

                “Of course, Dread Wing,” Gangryn simpered, bowing and scuttling out of the throne room.

                Feeling restless, Dread Wing spread his wings and flew from his throne room, catching a warm updraft in Warnado’s central core that carried him up to the top.  He alighted on the battlements at the top of the ship and surveyed his domain.  Cracks in the ground revealed molten rock beneath the surface, and Dread Wing breathed in the rich stench of life below the clouds.

                Dread Wing felt irritated with himself for feeling such loss at Nocturna’s departure.  Still, he remembered desiring her for his own from the moment she had defeated Fryte on the blood-soaked sands of the arena.  She had also been with him from the moment he had risen to power over a decade ago.  In some ways, he owed his reign to her murder of his father Asmodeus.

                If father was the right word to use for the vile creature.

                Dread Wing never knew his mother – like so many, she died in giving birth to her mutant son.  Such was the way of life in the breeding pits.  The strong survived and the weak died; it was a rule that governed life here on Old Earth.

                It had certainly governed life in Asmodeus’s court.  The previous Lord of Warnado had been fond of strong blood wine, females, and excess that Dread Wing did not stand for under his rule.  Still, it didn’t mean that his father couldn’t kill and pillage with the best.  Dread Wing had many good memories of raiding Dramen villages for slaves and battles with Dark Dramen tribes or other mutant factions.

                Asmodeus had crushed all his enemies.  They had been driven before him or trodden under his massive boot.  Dread Wing owed the large territory he ruled to his father’s conquests.  Unfortunately, that territorial expansion had brought them in conflict with the people of Airlandis.

                Dread Wing had once been perfectly content knowing he would rule Old Earth.  But when he had discovered the floating city, he had to possess it and the secrets it contained.  But his father had no intention of directly attacking or subjugating Airlandis.  Asmodeus had believed that the humans were no threat to them.  It had been a foolish belief.

*****

                “Father, let me lead a strike force to capture the floating city!” Dread Wing yelled, smashing his hand on the council table.  “I will show those humans that they cannot simply come down from the sky and take our amber crystals!”

                “Do not be a fool, Dread Wing,” Asmodeus grumbled, crossing his arms over his massive chest.  “We have no use for the crystals, and the humans’ technology is vastly superior to our own.  I do not wish war with them.”

                “Their technology is the reason we must conquer them!” Dread replied.  “My spies report that they have found a secret of the amber crystals that allows them to power the floating city.  Imagine what we could do with such a power source – no mutant or Dramen could stand in our path!”

                “You would ruin my empire for a fantasy?” Asmodeus yelled.  “I did not build this domain for you to throw it all away in a foolish quest!”

                Dread Wing tried to speak again, but Asmodeus silenced him with a hit to the face that sent Dread Wing sprawling on the floor.  “Do not speak to me of this again,” Asmodeus said, his voice a deadly whisper.  The Lord of Warnado stalked out of the room, leaving Dread Wing to pick himself up off the floor. 

                If that was the way Father wanted to see things, then so be it.  But Dread Wing did not give up so easily.  He had calculated how often the dragon riders from Airlandis came down to collect amber crystals, and knew that some of them would come down later today. Dread Wing would simply capture one of them and torture them for answers about the amber crystals.  Father would surely see the wisdom of his quest after that.

                Dread Wing made his way to where his dragon Black Heart was kept.  The dragon was a mighty beast, and had been a gift when Dread had come into his majority.  Black Heart was of a special line that his father had bred to be able to breathe fire from drinking lava.  Only the royal family was allowed to have these dragons.

                “Take us up, Black Heart,” Dread Wing said.  “We fly to our destiny – to conquer Airlandis, then the rest of Old Earth.”  As Black Heart roared and took off, Dread Wing sent a mental command to the gremwings under his personal control.  If he was going after four dragon riders, he was certainly not going unprepared.

                The grotesque insectoid monsters swirled around him, screeching and chittering.  They flew in a trail after Black Heart while Dread Wing pinpointed the location of the large amber bed he knew the humans would be coming for.

                As it came into view, Dread Wing could make out the shapes of four dragons scooping up crystals from the lava.  His blood boiled like the magma below at the thought of the humans stealing what belonged to him.  With a roar, he directed the gremwings to attack the dragons and their riders.

                Once the carnage had reached a pitched level, Dread Wing flew straight for the nearest rider, a man with a brown beard.  Dread Wing aimed his lava gun straight at the man’s chest and fired, the plasma beam knocking him from the back of his dragon.

                The human’s false wings spread as he fell toward the lava, and carried him back upward toward Dread.  The man raised his arms and arcs of light shot out from his wrists, one catching Dread Wing on the shoulder.  It burned, but Dread shoved away the pain and dove off of Black Heart toward the man.

                Dread Wing crashed into the human mid-air, sending them both tumbling back towards the lava pool below.  As they neared the surface of the bubbling pool, Dread Wing stared in horror as a dark form began to rise from the magma.  It was a lava beast, and they were headed straight for its open jaws.

                In an instant, the human’s dragon was between them and the lava beast, its claw wings scratching at the huge beast.

                “No, get away from it!” Dread Wing heard the human male cry, but it was too late.  The lava beast’s jaws closed around the dragon’s wing and it was pulled under the surface.

                Dread Wing didn’t want to miss his chance to capture the human, but he had sorely miscalculated.  The man was now full of rage, and shot Dread Wing straight in the chest with his gauntlet’s weapon, leaving a smoking hole in Dread’s armor.

                “You’ll pay for that, cragface!” the man cried, throwing something at Dread Wing.  The small device exploded, the impact throwing Dread Wing clear of the lava.  He landed hard on the rocks at the lava pool’s edge, the wind knocked out of him.  The human was relentless now, flying straight for Dread Wing with murder in his eyes.

                “Taste my Wind Jammer, mutant,” the man said, hovering over Dread Wing, his gauntlet pointed straight at the mutant’s face.

                The gauntlet discharged, but in that instant, Lord Asmodeus was on top of the human.  He picked the man up with ease, held him over his head, and broke the man’s back with a sickening crack before tossing him to the ground like a broken toy.

                “I told you not to come here,” Asmodeus said darkly, before spreading his own wings and flying back to his dragon.  Dread Wing took one final look at the human before following suit.  It was a clear reminder that his father could do the same to him with ease.

*****

                After Nocturna had killed his father, Dread Wing had put the inventor Gangryn to work, and the results had been glorious.  Dread Wing knew that he would one day soon either possess the floating city and all its secrets, or see it a smoking shell, torn apart by the Warp Winds.

                Either way, he would win.


	23. Tower Block

Prompt 23: Tower Block

                "Mutate this Gangryn, build that Gangryn, restore power to the whole damn wrecked ship, Gangryn!" the small mutant inventor known as Gangryn muttered under his breath as he crawled through a small access tube.  "What does Dread Wing think I am - a miracle worker?  That's what he'll need if he ever expects Warnado to fly again."  

                Gangryn stopped by the relay ports he needed to reconnect.  When the ship had crashed after their last attempt at flight and subsequent battle with Airlandis, most of the magma tubes had burst, flooding untold compartments and relays with molten rock.  Gangryn had put all of Dread Wing's army under his command to work chipping away at the now-cooled and solidified stone.  After they finished the grunt work, Gangryn and his team of newly-drafted Dramen slave engineers followed up with the delicate technical work.  It wasn't as though one could trust the beautiful mechanics of the ship to the base minds of those...brutes that Dread Wing normally employed.

The inventor hadn't particularly liked Nocturna, but he had to admit to missing the only source of semi-intelligent conversation in Dread Wing's domain.  Gangryn felt surrounded by fools, his true genius never appreciated.  Often, Gangryn wondered if he would have been better truly accepting the sanctuary he had been offered by Airlandis.  Had he not been so terrified of Dread Wing he... Well, the fact was he _was_ terrified of the mutant king, and Gangryn knew he didn't have the mettle to challenge Dread.  He was not strong, cunning, and crafty like Nocturna.  Dread Wing would crush Gangryn like a toad if he smelled the slightest hint of treachery.

                Gangryn was still furious about his beautiful machine known as the Brain Slave being destroyed by Dread Wing and the Dragon Flyz.  It had been his greatest achievement - entry into both the human and dragon mind.  It was a feat that he knew not even the humans had accomplished.  The Brain Slave had also been Gangryn's one true opportunity to unseat Dread Wing.  He daydreamed momentarily of liquefying the beast's brain with a mere thought, and chuckled at the notion.

                Gangryn's thin fingers worked swiftly and soon the connection was back in place, the magma flowing like honey through the tubes, bringing heat and power to this section of the ship.

                "Only a few hundred more relays to go," Gangryn grumbled to himself, picking up his tool kit and heading to the next station.

                His massive worry now was the engines.  Per his research, Gangryn found the engines had been pulverized into oblivion when the ship had crashed.  And unless Gangryn was quite mistaken, he didn't see a large supply of warship engines lying around for the taking.  Fryte was on a mission to locate pre-Cataclysmic relics that might be used as substitutes, but Gangryn wasn't holding his breath that the daft mutant's search would prove a success.

                Gangryn had designed a few backup engines in the (likely) event that Fryte found nothing.  However, even he was less than thrilled about attempting to use untested designs for such a crucial plan.  Dread Wing felt no such qualms though, so Gangryn had set another team with the unenviable task of fabricating and installing his engines.  No telling whether or not they would survive a trip through the Warp Winds, however.

                Gangryn emerged from the access tube onto a platform overlooking the central shaft of Warnado.  Gremwings buzzed all around, and Gangryn reminded himself that he was close to the Corridor of Blood (an altogether unpleasant place).  No, he had little desire to become the lunch of his carnivorous gremwing creations (though he made a mental note to toss them a slave soon).

                A Dark Dramen shoved Gangryn aside as he brushed by him on the platform.  Despite his high rank as one of Dread Wing’s high lieutenants, Gangryn got little if any respect from the common soldiers that the mutant lord commanded.  It used to make him furious, but these days Gangryn hardly cared; the brutes were far too stupid to understand his genius, and would sadly always remain so.  He almost pitied them.  Almost.

*****

                It was days later when Fryte returned to Warnado telling wild tales of a strange pair that he had fought far past the reaches of Dread Wing’s territory, barely escaping with his life.  Gangryn didn’t much care whether Fryte lived or died, but he was delighted for once to be proven wrong, as the mutant had towed back a fine pair of rocket boosters.  Yes, Gangryn believed these would do quite nicely at replacing some of the damaged engines.  He would still have to use his improvised designs, but at least now the inventor was confident they could make it through the Warp Winds again.

                Dread Wing threw a grand feast that night for Fryte’s return.  Well, look who became the favored child with Nocturna gone.  Gangryn was expected to attend, of course, though he hated such events.  They were a waste of his one precious resource: time.

                All during the reconstruction process, Gangryn had secretly been working on getting the Brain Slave back up and running.  He had learned much from the initial prototype: for one, he was genetically coding this model to respond only to him.  There would be no risk of Dread Wing abusing his beautiful machine again.  Second, he was building it into an armor suit.  Mobility would be key, rather than being confined to a chair like before.

                And he had increased the power tenfold.  The female dragonator Apex had formidable mental powers, both telepathic and telekinetic, but next to him her abilities would look like the cheap amusements that Dread Wing threw at his soldiers.  Oh yes, he would enjoy wiping her mind more than anything.

                His only problem with the suit was powering it.  The original Brain Slave had taken massive amounts of energy and was hooked up directly to Warnado’s fission engine.  Trying to miniaturize that technology had proven most unsuccessful (as those unfortunate test subjects had proven quite adequately).  Which brought Gangryn back to the amber crystals.

                Somehow, it always seemed to come back to the amber crystals.  He had spent the better part of his career searching for the secrets of the amber, only to have every lead come to a dead end (and often with rather explosive results).  But if Gangryn ever wanted to make his Brain Slave armor operational, he would have to solve the secrets of the amber.  If only he could get his claws on one of Airlandis’ portable generators!  The floating city rarely sent out colonization attempts any more, however, and those had always proven to be the best method by which to acquire the technology.

                The speeches droned on at the feast, punctuated by harsh laughter and vile dancing by the slaves.  Gangryn nursed a small cup of blood wine, though most of his “peers” were already quite drunk and pawing at the slave women like animals.

                Fearing he would go completely mad if he stayed another moment, Gangryn excused himself from the table and started making his way to the door.  Quite unfortunately, Fryte blocked the exit before he could make his escape.

                “Where you going, little inventor,” the grotesque mutant barked.  “You dishonor me by leaving party!”

                “You would have to have honor in order to be dishonored, Fryte,” Gangryn lashed back.  Feeling in his pocket, Gangryn was comforted to have his electro-spanner still there.  He could easily dispatch a drunken Fryte if necessary with it.

                Fryte’s massive arm scratched his ugly head as he no doubt puzzled Gangryn’s reply in his tiny brain, but by that point Gangryn had moved past him and into the hallway.

                Away from the din of the revelry, Gangryn decided that Fryte would make an excellent first test subject for the powers of the Brain Slave armor.  Gangryn smiled and adjusted his goggles to see in the gloom.  Yes, destroying what little brain Fryte had would make an excellent first test indeed.


	24. Taxi

Prompt 24: Taxi

                Cifex opened the communication line back to the _Explorer._ “I’m ready on this end, Iranda,” he said.  “Prepare for transport.”  Activating the controls of the teleporter terminal, Cifex watched as a light collected in the gazebo-like structure in the middle of the room.  The light overloaded his optical sensors for a moment, before dimming and coalescing into a humanoid shape.  In another minute, the humanoid shape gained features and clothing, eventually revealing itself to be Iranda.

                The lady scientist dropped to her knees, deep sobs wracking her body as she set foot on Old Earth for the first time in seventeen years.  Cifex moved toward Iranda, gently helping her up off the floor.  “Welcome home, Iranda,” he said, giving her a smile.

                It had taken Cifex a good week to reconfigure the portal’s controls to bring Iranda back – especially since this wasn’t the portal she had originally come through.  He had been back and forth to the _Explorer_ many times in that week, meeting the command crew of the starship and helping Iranda pack up and transport the terraforming technology that Captain Suri had so graciously given them, with the hope that it could aid in the restoration of Earth. 

                Iranda had not been idle during her “sabbatical,” as she jokingly referred to her time on the ship as.  She had studied the great scientific leaps these humans had made while travelling across the galaxy, and felt especially confident that she could replicate at least some of their successes on alien worlds on Old Earth.  Cifex privately thought she might be reaching a bit too far; the technology here was very different from what had emerged on Old Earth in the years after the Cataclysm.  _Still, if there is a hope here of making a better world for Apex, I must see this through,_ he acknowledged.

*****

_“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay, Iranda?” Captain Suri had asked her in their final conversation in Suri’s office.  “The world you want to return to is a wreck, overrun with mutants and other foul forms of life.  Would it not be better to have Cifex guide your people to the portal and bring them here?  We have plenty of room on the ship.”_

_Iranda took a sip of the fragrant jasmine tea that she and the Captain had enjoyed on countless occasions.  Setting the cup back on the saucer, she answered, “I appreciate the offer, Suri, really I do.  Perhaps because you have never seen our home planet in anything but historical records there is a lost connection, but I understand now that humans need to make a true home on Earth; we destroyed our world over a thousand years ago and now I feel the time has come to restore it and make amends for the damage done by our ancestors.”_

_“Then will you at least give your people the option of joining us if they so choose?” Captain Suri countered._

_Iranda nodded.  “Of course.  I would never deny anyone the opportunity to join your noble endeavor.”_

_The younger woman hugged Iranda.  “I salute you, my friend.  May you find the peace there that you so desperately seek.”_

*****

                The smell was the first thing that Iranda experienced on coming through the portal.  Seventeen years of clean, filtered air left her unprepared for the rank, rotting odor that always permeated the world below the clouds.  But she would rather breathe the stench of decay the rest of her days alongside her family than live in a cosmic paradise without them.

                Iranda had carefully packed away her indigo gown, trading it for a much more practical officer’s uniform from the _Explorer._ It had been Captain Suri’s parting gift to her, a memento to remember them all by.  It certainly didn’t hurt that the cloth had built in nano-circuitry for body temperature regulation (something Iranda was sure she would enjoy in the humid climate of Old Earth).

                Overcome with emotion on finallyfinally _finally_ returning home, Iranda promptly broke down into huge sobs.  She was vaguely aware of Cifex trying to comfort her, but Iranda was overwhelmed that it had finally happened.  She had spent so many nights blissfully dreaming of returning to her family, only to wake up alone in her quarters on the _Explorer._   The only way she could keep herself sane over the last week was by constantly looking at the holos of her children from the android’s memory banks.

                Cifex had already packed the limited amount of equipment she would be able to take in his small hovercraft.  Iranda knew once she got the designs for the large terraforming equipment to Orak, he would be able to build them.  Her old friend was a certifiable genius with machines.  _Explorer_ had also sent along a portable food replicator for her nutritional needs.

                Cifex handed Iranda a cloak for protection against the howling sandstorms outside before leading her the short distance to the hovercraft.  Iranda took one look back at the pyramid, silently vowing to never set foot in one again.  Cifex helped her into the hovercraft before closing the gull wing door and moving around to the other side, getting into the pilot’s seat.

                Cifex had wanted to head straight back to Airlandis once she came through the portal, but Iranda knew that the android’s self-imposed mission could have far reaching benefits for Airlandis.  She had compromised with him, and they had plotted a roughly circular route that would let Cifex investigate several 30th century installations before returning to Airlandis’ traditional flyover territory.

                “The captain gave this to me before we left.  I thought it might be more appropriate that you hang onto it for the time being,” Cifex said.  He handed her a small laser pistol that fit neatly in the harness built into her suit’s leg.  “Just in case we run into any trouble,” he added.

                Iranda nodded, hoping her long-ago tactical training would kick in during such an event.  Aaron had used to tease her, saying she couldn’t hit a dragon if it were right in front on her.

                Cifex powered up the craft and glided out of the canyon hiding the pyramid.  All around them, sand storms raged, buffeting the small ship with their violent winds.  “Where is our next stop, Cifex?” Iranda asked, bringing up the navi-map on her station’s terminal.

                “If we make good time, we’ll leave the great desert behind by this evening,” he responded.  “To the north on the edge of the Torrent Sea, there was the Poseidos deep-sea research and defense facility.  From the data I downloaded from my old base, it seems there was a military genetic research laboratory down there.  The idea being that the facility could be flooded in the event that the scientists ever created anything they couldn’t control.”

                Iranda shuddered.  “Well that sounds…unpleasant,” she said with a grimace.

                Cifex simply nodded, his face an unreadable mask.  “My squadron fought a creature birthed there once.  Unpleasant doesn’t begin to describe it.”

*****

                Iranda dozed while Cifex piloted the hovercraft throughout the afternoon.  He couldn’t blame her – interstellar transportation was enough to tire most humans, notwithstanding the emotional journey the woman had been on over the last week.

                Following the navi-computer’s excellent directions, Cifex finally made it out of the desert, and he couldn’t have been more delighted to leave that place behind.  The sun was setting, however, so Cifex located a small rock overhang to hide the hovercraft underneath during the night.  Gently shaking Iranda awake, Cifex got out of the hovercraft to scout the area and make sure there were no large predators around.  He doubted it, being so close to the inhospitable desert, but it never fried anyone’s servos to double check.

                When he returned to their camp, Cifex found Iranda had set up the food replicator and produced two steaming mugs of nutritional broth.

                “Here Cifex, I thought you might be hungry,” she said with a small smile, handing him a mug.

                Cifex took the mug, but added, “I don’t normally need to eat, Iranda, though my body can break down…” he began, before thinking better of it and simply said, “Thanks.”

                Night crept up cold and quick on the edges of the desert, and suddenly Cifex was thankful for the warm broth, however redundant it might be.  He sat under the hovercraft’s gull door beside Iranda, enjoying the sounds of the wind whipping up the dunes a few miles away.

                “Cifex,” Iranda said quietly.  “I want to properly thank you for rescuing me.”

                The android shrugged.  “It was more good fortune I found the portal than anything else.  Not that I’m not delighted to have found you.  Your family will be dragging banners through the sky at your return when we get to Airlandis.”

                Cifex saw tears prick the corner of Iranda’s eyes.  “Will they?  Now that I’m back on Old Earth, I have to wonder how my family can ever forgive me for putting my theories before them?  What if I get to Airlandis and they don’t even want to see me?  I don’t think I could take...” The rest of her reply was lost in silent sobs.

                Cifex set down his cup and pulled a blanked out of a compartment in the door, wrapping it around Iranda’s shoulders.  Looking her in the eye, he dabbed her tears.  “They understand why you had to do it, Iranda.  You left with a dream of building them a better life, a home.  That is nothing to be ashamed of.  Unfortunately, you just ended up taking the long road.  Your family – Aaron, Apex, Z’neth, Summit, and Peak – will welcome you back to that place in their hearts that you never left.”

                Iranda finally stopped crying and rested her head on Cifex’s shoulder.  “Tell me,” she asked him.  “Have you thought of where you will go after delivering me to Airlandis?”

                “Not really,” Cifex answered.  “I don’t have a home to return to, so I suppose I’ll continue wandering.”

                “You could have a home in Airlandis, you know.”

                “No – I don’t belong there,” Cifex said automatically.

                “You’re wrong, Cifex.  Humanity needs men of strong character like you to rebuild,” Iranda said. 

                Cifex snorted in disbelief, “Humanity doesn’t need another killing machine.”

Iranda raised her head, giving him a strange look.  “For such a noble man, sometimes you are so indescribably sad.  Is it because you don’t think you’re worthy of Apex?”

“Apex is warmth and life itself.  What could a machine possibly offer her?”

Iranda drew her knees up to her chest, resting her head on them.  “Well, I guess he won’t know unless he comes back to Airlandis with me,” she said, giving him a small smirk.  “But really, Cifex, please think about it.  You have been a blessing to me, and though I may not be well acquainted with my daughter as of late, I think if you love her it’s worth reaching for.”

Cifex patted Iranda’s hand.  “Go to sleep, Space Ace.  We have a long day ahead tomorrow.”

Iranda climbed into the back of the hovercraft, stretching out on the seat.  When Cifex was assured that she was asleep, he pulled out his holocube of Apex, staring at her face until the sun rose.

*****

                “Are you sure this is safe?” Iranda asked, staring at the ancient structure.  They had reached the edge of the Torrent Sea late in the morning, quickly locating the colossal, rusted building at the brackish water’s edge.

                Cifex was busy collating data from his remote sensors.  “It appears to be structurally sound, and the mechanics that drive the water-tube elevator shaft appear to be intact.  We should be able to reach the bottom without issue.”

                "Oh, that makes me feel so much safer," Iranda replied, a touch of sarcasm in her voice.  "I think I'll still take a rebreather if it's all the same."

                Cifex nodded, pulling one out of his pack and handing it to Iranda before strapping his own on.  He didn't really need it to breathe underwater, but it would at least filter the toxins that clouded the Torrent Sea in the event that they had to enter any flooded sections of the base.  Cifex had dreaded coming to the Poseidos Base since mapping it out; he would only feel better after his explosive charges went off, taking the research facility to the bottom of the sea.

                After securing their gear, Cifex and Iranda stepped through the imposing doorway.  For all the rust coating the exterior of the structure, the inside was in remarkably good repair.  While the lower underwater level had been for genetic research, the upper level had done a good deal of weapons testing.  Spent rockets, cannons, and phase weapons littered the ground, telling of the final battle that had taken place here.  Cifex noted with a pang of sadness that no human remains were present; whatever creatures had trashed the based had likely carted them away for food or slaves in the post-Cataclysm days.

                "I'll set charges here before we leave," Cifex said, surveying the weapons that remained.  Two large rockets stood against the far wall - too large to be taken by the scavengers that crawled across Old Earth.

Cifex's sensors located the entrance to the water-tube elevator at the far edge, and he directed Iranda to follow.  Large steel doors blocked the entrance to the elevator, with an access panel to the side; while Cifex worked on opening the doorway, Iranda tried to translate the glyphs written on the door.

"A scientia, homo aedificat deos..." she whispered.  "By science, man builds gods."

"Well, that sounds delightful," Cifex replied.  Moving back from the access panel, Cifex pulled out his phase rifle and stood slightly in front of Iranda, wanting to protect her in case anything...unnatural came through.

With a deep groan, the metal doors slid open, revealing a platform waiting on top of the water-tube.  Cifex did a quick sweep, making sure no hostiles were present before beckoning Iranda forward.

"Can you work this thing?" she asked, sliding her laser pistol back into its holster, though not taking her hand from the grip.

In the platform’s center stood a small control tower.  Its screens were dark, but Cifex transferred a small amount of power to it, activating the ancient screens and being gifted a level-by-level readout of the base's substructure.  The main breeding and cloning laboratories were located on the deepest level, naturally.

"This is my era's technology," Cifex answered with a chuckle.  "I'm probably the last being left on the planet with a working understanding of it."  Flipping a few switches, Cifex heard a loud creak as the platform began to descend into the water tube.  “Stay alert, Iranda.  We don’t know if anything is still alive down here.”

Iranda gave him an odd look.  “You think that after all this time anything could survive down here?”

Cifex simply shrugged.  “Don’t forget I fought the nightmares manufactured here in the Cataclysmic Wars.  If they have access to the Torrent Sea for food, I don’t doubt some of they could have managed to persist and reproduce.  It’s what we’re here to find out, after all.”

                The platform rattled down the translucent water-tube, and Cifex could have sworn his optical sensors were playing tricks on him – huge dark shapes seemed to drift in the seas around them, though never close enough to become fully visible.  It was disconcerting, to say the least.  He could hear Iranda breathing in quick, shallow breaths.  Maybe it would have been safer had she stayed in the hovercraft?

                The elevator platform came to rest with a shudder on the lowest level – floor fifteen.  The thick metal door had blaring warning signs covering it, listing that only clearance level alpha was allowed behind these doors.

                “Here’s my clearance card,” Cifex said, pointing his phase rifle at the access panel and blasting it.  The metal door slid open, and Cifex heard Iranda inhale a sharp breath at what lay on the other side.

                In maturation tubes all around the room translucent eggs hung suspended in a gelatinous matrix.  Cifex jumped into the room, his phase rifle ready to take out any hostiles that might still be hanging around.  Satisfied that the room was clear, Cifex made a motion for Iranda to follow him in.

“They look amphibious in nature,” Iranda said, peering closely at the large eggs.  Cifex could see maturing embryos inside through their translucent shells.  “They’re not hooked up to any monitoring equipment,” Iranda added.  “I would expect something more than this if these were…leftovers from the Pre-Cataclysmic era.”

Cifex gave her a pointed look.  “So you’re saying these are new eggs?”

Iranda nodded.  “They’re definitely alive, at any rate.  I can’t say more without running a full diagnostic,” she said, before looking around at the trashed equipment, “though that seems like somewhat of an impossibility considering the horrendous state of the machinery here.”

“Further proof that these creatures use this as an egg repository,” Cifex said.

“How can aquatic constructs get in here, though?” Iranda asked.  “Those doors were sealed.”

Cifex swept the room, scanning for any points of entry other than the one they had entered through.  When his scan turned up nothing, he gave Iranda a grave look.  “I have to assume they know how to come in through the front doors.”

Iranda shuddered.  “It stands to reason, I suppose.  These were creatures bred to fight androids and humans.  They had to have at least some intelligence programmed in.  And time has only selected for the more intelligent individuals.”

It was Cifex’s turn to shudder.  “We’re not waiting for the smart ones to come back, then.  I’m setting the charges now and we’re going to send these hell-spawn to the bottom of the sea.”

Cifex handed a few of the charges to Iranda, and they spread them around the room before programming a twenty minute silent countdown, allowing enough time to reach the surface and destroy the weapons cache above them as well.

Running back to the water tube elevator, Cifex pressed the controls to take them back to the surface.  As the platform began to ascend however, he heard a horrible, wet screech above them.  Looking upward, Cifex saw myriad horrible shapes crawling down the sides of the elevator shaft.

The creatures had huge bulbous eyes and gill slits, along with razor-sharp teeth and sucking, amphibious appendages that allowed them to cling to the walls.  Two of them dropped to the platform and began to grab at Iranda; Cifex quickly dispatched them with his phase rifle, leaving oily smears on the deck plating.

He saw Iranda take aim at another that was falling toward her and fire, vaporizing it with her laser pistol.  Cifex took the opportunity to join her back to back, and soon the platform was littered with bodies as more and more of the creatures seemed to pour out of every orifice, screaming and trying to take them down.

The platform finally reached the ground level, and Cifex fired a wide spread, clearing their way to the door.  “Go, Iranda!  I’ll hold them off while you get out!” he yelled over the sound of their weapons fire.  She nodded, racing toward the door, her blonde ponytail swishing with every stride.

Cifex roared as his phase rifle cut through the genetic freaks, flashing back to his days as a military assault android.

“Get out of there, Cifex!” Iranda yelled.  Cifex could soon see why, as the metal doors to the elevator shaft began to close.  He ran with all his strength for the door, sliding through at the last minute before it closed.  Unfortunately, he hadn’t been the only one lucky enough to make it through.  At least twenty of the creatures had followed him, and Cifex could hear the rest trying to tear their way through the metal.

“Oh, shit,” Cifex swore as he stole a glance across the room to the building’s exit.  Standing there was one of Dread Wing’s grotesque mutants, supervising Dark Dramen as they loaded up the two large rocket boosters onto dragon-carried towing sleighs.

Cifex ran toward Iranda, picking her up and using the motors in his legs to execute a high jump toward the balcony level that ran around the building’s interior.  “We’ve got a problem,” Cifex said, setting Iranda down.

“I hadn’t noticed!” she said, vaporizing one of the creatures that was starting to crawl up the wall toward them.

“More than the genetic freaks!  One of Dread Wing’s lieutenants is trying to make off with those rocket boosters!  That kind of advantage could tip the balance of power on Old Earth,” Cifex said, taking aim and firing a volley at the Dark Dramen securing the rockets.  Well, that got their attention.  It also had the added bonus of diverting the attention of the fish-mutants, who started going after the Dark Dramen.

“I was saving this,” Cifex said, digging into his pouch and pulling out a small chrome sphere, “but this seems like the appropriate time.”

“A thermal detonator!” Iranda breathed in.  “With the amount of explosives that will set off, this building will be reduced to a scorch mark.”

Cifex gave a ragged chuckle.  “That’s the general idea.  Iranda, I can’t allow those rockets or any of this technology to fall into Dread Wing’s clutches.  That’s why you’re taking this,” he said pulling out a belt from his pouch and securing it around Iranda’s waist.  “This anti-grav belt has enough power left to carry your free of the blast radius.  If I’m not successful, you’re going to have to warn Airlandis what’s coming.”

“I won’t leave you to fight them alone!” Iranda cried.  “I know I’m not the best shot, but I can’t let you die here – not after everything you did for me!”

Cifex hugged Iranda briefly, fiercely.  “And I can’t risk having you caught in the crossfire.”  He quickly programmed the belt while Iranda was unaware.  “And it wasn’t a request,” he whispered.  Without a sound, Iranda lifted off the ground, crying foul and protest.  Cifex blasted one of the building’s windows, and the belt lifted Iranda through it and away.

Cifex turned his attention to the rabble below.  “Monster, I can’t let you steal those rockets!” he yelled, jumping down from the platform and racing toward Fryte.  The mutant bellowed, sending a gout of plasma fire arcing toward Cifex.  He deftly avoided it, and got off a few shots of his own, sending Fryte staggering behind several large cannisters.

Cifex grinned wickedly, recognizing the “Hazardous” symbol on the containers.  Taking careful aim, he shot the canister.  The resulting explosion sent a brutal shockwave ricocheting through the battle pandemonium, knocking fish-mutants and Dark Dramen to the ground.

Fryte quickly recovered from the blast and tackled Cifex to the ground.  The mutant’s hot, fetid breath overloaded Cifex’s olfactory sensors.

“You will pay with your life, hu-man!” Fryte yelled, grabbing Cifex’s neck in an attempt to crush his windpipe.

“Good.  Thing.  I’m.  Not.  Human,” Cifex gasped, jamming an electro-shocker into Fryte’s chest and sending the mutant flying backward with a jolt of electricity. 

All around him, fish-mutants battled the Dark Dramen.  By his internal chronometer, Cifex knew there were only a few minutes left before the charges they had set on the lower levels detonated.  He began running toward the sleigh, hoping to use his thermal detonator to make sure the rockets went up with the rest of the building.

As he ran, in a moment Cifex saw the metal pole sprout from his chest.  Time slowed as he collapsed on the floor, the thermal detonator rolling out of his hand.  Cifex’s optical sensors dimmed, growing hazy and full of static.

“Stupid man will not stop Fryte,” the mutant sneered from above him as he dropped a second pole, giving Cifex a kick for good measure.

Cifex pulled the metal pole from his chest as his self-repair subroutines took over trying to muster the nanites of his body to rebuild.  But Cifex knew there would be no time for the microscopic machines to finish their job.  Marshaling the last remaining quantum bits of his power cells, Cifex remotely activated the countdown on the thermal detonator.

Fryte blasted a few fish-mutants as he stomped back to the rockets, directing the dragons to pull them out on the sleigh.  In that moment, the building shook violently as the lower charges detonated.  Cifex sighed, hoping that had destroyed the eggs of the fish-mutants.

As he lay there, Cifex felt a pang of…regret?  Yes, regret that he would be unable to complete his quest and earn the respect that would allow him to one day see Apex again with pride.  As his vision began to darken, Cifex brought up a mental file of Apex’s smiling face. 

“Get up, Cifex!” she said to him.  “No way am I letting you die on me in this hell-hole!”  Apex’s features seemed to run a little, before dissolving into Iranda’s concerned visage.

“Iranda?” Cifex whispered.  “How…?” he trailed off in bewilderment.

Iranda gave him a little smirk as she tore off the anti-grav belt and looped it around his waist.  “I’m a scientist, you know.  Reprogramming an anti-grav belt is easy.”

Cifex shook his head.  “You have to get out of here!  The thermal detonator is going to go off any moment!”

Iranda threw her arms around Cifex as the belt lifted him off the ground.  “Then it’s best we get out together, my friend.”

Cifex could feel the explosion before he could see it.  Heat waves radiated off the thermal detonator, drying and cracking the moist skin of the fish-mutants.  Cifex held tight to Iranda as the anti-grav belt pulled them out the very window he had sent her before.  They had no sooner cleared the building before the walls began to turn red and melt.

Then the world exploded. 

Light brighter than the sun forced Cifex to close his eyes, and the force of the resultant blast blew the pair end over end.  Cifex lost all sense of space and gravity until they hit the waters of the Torrent Sea.  It was only by sheer force of will that the android was able to stay online and drag the now unconscious Iranda to the shore before collapsing and going offline.

*****

                Iranda awoke cold and wet, her mouth tasting of ash and rotting seaweed.  Waves lapped at her feet, and her head was splitting with pain.

                Looking around, she could see the smoking remains of the Poseidos facility in the distance some way down the shoreline.  _How far did that blast throw us?_

Cifex!  She looking around frantically and only calmed for a moment after seeing the android’s body lying beside her.

                “My brave friend,” she sighed, wiping the seaweed from his face.  Looking him over, Iranda could see that the hole in his chest was almost repaired.  But would he come back online after such a shock?  She didn’t have the right tools to help him out here.

                While she waited for Cifex to awaken, Iranda wandered the beach gathering driftwood to build a fire in an attempt to dry out.  A small shot from her laser pistol ignited the wood, and soon a blaze was crackling.  Iranda dragged Cifex up from the waves and next to the fire, not sure if androids even required heat like humans.

                Her stomach rumbled, and Iranda wondered if the hovercraft had survived the blast.  She would have to wait for Cifex to wake up and call it, though.

                As the twilight came upon them and the sun dropped below the waves, Iranda spied a flutter of Cifex’s eyelashes as he began to come back online.

                “System diagnostic and repair complete – further testing still required before unit can return to active combat duty,” he said in a strange, monotone voice.  Iranda breathed a sigh of relief as Cifex’s next words were in his normal voice.  “Iranda, did we win?” he croaked.

                She nodded.  “Poseidos is a smoking crater from what I can tell, though I think Fryte got away with the two rocket boosters.  I could see the dragons lifting off before coming back in to get you out.”

                “You have to take word to Airlandis,” Cifex said, gingerly sitting up and running a hand absentmindedly through his mohawk.  “If Dread Wing gets those engines…”

                Iranda knew what would happen if those rockets were installed onto Warnado – the warship would fly again and conquer Airlandis.  “I’m not going back to Airlandis alone Cifex – you need a full diagnostic and repair.  I’m sorry to say your mission is being cut a little short, but it looks like we’re going home.”


	25. Search

Prompt 25: Search

                Miriam took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to ward off the coming headache.  Frustrated that her research was going nowhere, she pushed her chair away from the electron microscope and leaned back, staring at the double helix laser-etched on the golden ceiling of her laboratory.

                _Why won’t the Alayas flowers give up their secrets to me?_ she mused.  _I’ve cracked their genetic code, but can’t seem to isolate the genes coding for their neurotoxic spores._ If she could isolate those genes, there was a chance of engineering a strain that didn’t cause paranoid, nightmarish hallucinations in humans.

                Of course, even if she did get to that point, who in their right mind would be a willing test subject? 

                Her reverie was interrupted by a ring from the holo-com.  Pressing the button to answer, she smiled as Summit’s face appeared.

                “Miri, you’re still in the lab?” he asked.  “I thought you and Apex were getting ready for the Talent Show together?”

                Miriam chuckled, glad to take her mind off of research troubles for a moment.  “Summit, it doesn’t take five hours to get ready!  There’s plenty of time.”

                Summit arched an eyebrow.  “So you say.  I’ve known you to spend all night in that lab when you get wrapped up in a project, though.”

                “Then I’ll be counting on hourly reminders from you,” Miriam quipped, remembering all the time she had woken up to find imprints of instruments on her face.

                "They're keeping most of the performers up front, but since I'm going last I'll be able to sit with you for most of the acts," Summit said.  "Father said Z'neth is bringing Nocturna though, so perhaps don't bring that up with Apex while you're getting ready," he said with a chuckle.

                Miriam was intrigued.  "The rumor is that Z'neth and Dragonator Two are taking her on an amber run very soon.  Any word on that from the inside source?" she questioned.

                "Classified information as of right now," Summit replied.  "I don't think Father wants Dread to know his ex-lieutenant might be dropping in for a visit."

                Miriam mock saluted.  "Roger that, sir.  By the way, have you given any thought to the mission we discussed earlier?"

                Summit looked uncomfortable.  "I brought up another Alayas mission to Father, but he didn't seem too keen on the idea of anyone returning there, research or no."

                Miriam groaned.  "I can't believe that after the successful Aristotle test flights he would be loath to turn its powers onto our closest possibility for a settlement."

                "It's not just Father," Summit continued.  "The whole Council is skeptical about another mission there after the complete disaster that last one turned into."

                “But if I can’t get back to the mountain to study live specimens, I might never figure this out!” Miriam huffed.  “I can’t believe the Council would be so foolish to leave all the avenues unexplored with Mount Alayas.”

                Summit ran a hand through his blonde hair.  “Miri, I understand your desire to do something, but I just don’t think you understand what it was like to have those hallucinations.  Like you couldn’t trust anything you saw, including yourself.”

                Miriam bit her tongue, knowing she couldn’t challenge those who had actually lived through the experience.

                “I know it’s hard to leave Alayas on the table for now,” Summit said.  “It was hard for everyone to have such a perfect paradise snatched away not by Dread Wing, but by a flower.”

                Miriam let out a breath.  “Well, I’ll continue working with a data I’ve got.  Hopefully I can make somebody see reason eventually.”

                “I know you will, love,” Summit said with a warm smile that melted her a little bit.  “See you tonight.”  He blew her a kiss before signing off.

                Miriam worked for a few more hours, giggling when Summit's hourly text reminders came through, each with increasingly humorous pictures of him pacing or pointing at the wall chrono attached.

                Finally shutting down her workstation, Miriam placed her samples back in storage and threw her lab jacket over the chair before making her way to Nora's quarters.  The stroll was pleasant, and she had the opportunity to say hello to Eleazar as he was dragging a bunch of Old Earth soil samples back to his lab.  When she reached the apartment, Miri could hear what sounded like a war going on on the other side of the door.

                When ringing the bell produced no response, Miriam cautiously opened the door, and then promptly ducked to avoid being hit in the head by a flying boot.

                "What's going on in here?" she cried, taking in the scene of Apex digging through Nora's closet in an attempt to find something suitable to wear.

                "She's gone mad, that's what!" Nora said, clinging to Miriam for dear life.

                Apex waved a hand in dismissal.  "Nonsense!  I'm simply trying to find something suitable for Nora to wear to the Talent Show tonight.  It's her first _official_  date with Peak, after all."

                Miriam grinned as she wandered into the room.  "Well, that changes everything, doesn't it?"

                Nora groaned.  "What’s gotten you two all hot under the exo-wings all of the sudden?  Peak and I have hung out loads of times.  What makes this any different?"

                “It’s just that this night will set a…” Miriam searched for the words, “tone.  Yes, it will set the tone for your future relationship with Peak going forward.”

                Nora snorted.  “Who says we’re going on more dates after tonight?”

                “Oh, you’re going,” Apex said as she continued to paw Nora’s paltry selection of clothes.  “Nora, don’t you have any formal dresses?  All I’m finding is your dress uniform.”

                Nora flopped down on the sofa while Miriam went to the beverage dispenser and made a hot cup of tea.  “Apex, I’ve never had any occasion to wear things like that.  I just wore my dress uniform for the first time since induction at the dragonator ball last year.”

                Apex poked her head out of the closet, giving Nora a bewildered look.  Miriam chuckled, knowing Apex’s fondness for clothes and fashion (a habit the dragonator didn’t get to indulge in too often).  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Apex said.

                “Uh oh, you’ve awoken the beast,” Miriam remarked before taking a delicate sip of the delicious Darjeeling.

                "I just...have no words.  It's just tragic," Apex said.

                Miriam rolled her eyes at her friend's dramatics.  "Not everyone has your need for a huge wardrobe, Apex."

                "Don't get me started about how you live in that lab jacket," Apex snapped back, and Nora giggled.  "At any rate, we're abandoning this clothing wasteland and you're coming over to raid my closet.  I'm sure we can find something elegant for both of you in there."

                Miriam barely had time to finish her tea before Apex drug them across Airlandis to her family’s set of quarters.  Once inside, they poked in on Aaron to say hello before Apex marched them to her room.  Miriam always enjoyed visiting Apex’s closet – the girl had collected fashions (many which Miriam knew had belonged to Iranda, and held powerful memories) and scraps of material for years, sometimes weaving them into outfits, other times just laying them out and enjoyed the lovely patterns and textures.  Miriam knew Apex didn’t actually wear most of the clothes – in fact, her old friend usually dressed down and chose comfortable clothes after endless hours in her flight suit.  Still, Apex employed her vast wardrobe whenever possible.

                “What do you think, Miri?  For Nora, something in green would go lovely with her long red hair,” Apex said, pulling out a sparkling green dress that pooled on the floor like water.

                Nora made a gagging noise.  “I think I would lose all respect for myself if I was seen in public wearing something so…slinky.”

                “Agree to disagree on the ‘slinky’ comment,” Apex retorted, “but perhaps it is a little much for the talent show.”

                Miriam ran her hands over a pale green velvet jacket, savoring the feel of the cloth.  “What about this?  Maybe with a nice pair of slacks?”

                Miriam helped Nora into the jacket before stepping back to survey with Apex.  “Good eye, Miri,” Apex said.  The dragonator pulled a pair of cream-colored slacks and a pair of boots from the other side of the closet, holding them up to Nora.  “Yes, yes, I think this will do quite nicely.”

                Nora wiped her brow.  “Whew, I thought we might be here all day.  Nice save, Miriam.”

                “We still need to find something to wear too!” Apex replied, eyes flashing in mild annoyance.

                Miriam settled herself as Apex brought out scads of outfits, each more impressive than the last.  Apex herself decided on a lovely off-the-shoulder midnight blue dress – nothing as fancy as she had worn for the Dragonator Ball, but lovely nonetheless.  Miriam was the last to make up her mind, choosing a flowing wine red dress.

                Nora looked at her chrono.  “Um, we’ve only got half an hour before the show starts.”

                Full panic mode started at that point, with Apex directing Miriam and Nora to her brothers’ open sonic showers. Apex burned herself with a curler, and Nora may have fallen over attempting to squish her feet into Apex’s boots.  Miriam laughed until her sides hurt at the ridiculousness of the situation, remembering Summit’s warnings about time.

                The end result was fabulous, though.

                The trio dashed to the concert hall, barely making it to their reserved box in time.  All around them, Airlandeans dressed up for the musical and dramatic event of the season filtered into the plush red seats, and above them all a gorgeous cut amber chandelier gave off warm, merry light that made the golden walls seem to glow. As she enjoyed the view Miriam realized she didn’t come to programs here nearly often enough.

Miriam kissed her brother Zarkan and his boyfriend Amod, while Apex made a small noise in her throat, noticing that Z’neth and Nocturna were sitting together.  Miriam privately thought it was nice, but wisely chose to not share those feelings with Apex.  Peak looked quite handsome, and Nora greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, smiling as the young dragonator’s face reddened.

                Miriam hugged Aaron and her Uncle Orak before settling into a chair beside them.  “Summit said to tell you he’ll be along shortly,” Aaron said, eyes crinkling in a warm smile.

                They chatted amicably for a few minutes before the house lights dimmed and applause rang out across the hall as Councilman Joshua stepped out as master of ceremonies for the evening. 

                Suddenly, Miriam felt a breath on her neck and a light kiss as Summit whispered, “Sorry I’m late,” into her ear.  He reached across her to squeeze his father’s hand before settling into the seat to enjoy what he could of the show.

                Joshua’s voice boomed across the crowd.  “Welcome to the eighty-sixth annual Talent Show!  As head of the Council, it is my privilege to be your host for this evening of the very best in Airlandean-produced performance art.  Tonight you will be swept away with story, dance, music, and song.”

                And swept away Miriam was.  Dancers executed flawless pirouettes, songstresses let their voices flow like water over the crowd, dramatic actors both entertained and inspired with vignettes.

                Summit disappeared about midway through the show, and Miriam clapped louder than anyone when he reappeared on stage as the last number for the evening. 

“This song is dedicated to Miriam,” he said to the crowd, “my love.”  Miriam blushed, suddenly aware of eyes in the crowd trying to get a glimpse of her.  She watched Summit settle himself at the keyboard on stage, take a deep breath, then begin to play.

The song started out soft, with graceful trills and arpeggios, before Summit abruptly changed to dark minor chords.  Miriam could practically see the bubbling lava pits of Old Earth.  Summit sped up, his hands flying on the keys as the song reached its climax, chords resounding and reverberating off of the concert hall’s walls.  Then, gentle as a breeze, Summit wove Iranda’s theme into the finale.  Miriam looked over at Aaron, whose tearstained face matched her own.  She grasped the old man’s hand in a tight grip.

As the last echoes faded, the concert hall was silent for a moment before erupting into a standing ovation.  Summit wiped his own eyes before taking a quick bow and exiting stage left.  Joshua made a few closing remarks before officially ending the performance.

As the house lights came up, Miriam could see there wasn’t a dry eye in their box.  The hall began to empty, and their group decided to stop by the Replimat for a bit of refreshment to end their night out.  Summit rejoined them, to many accolades and a deep kiss from Miriam.

The Replimat was full of performance-goers, but they were easily able to secure a few tables.  Miriam chatted with Nocturna for a bit, trying to make the mutant-woman feel at ease.

When they were finally all settled, Aaron stood up and raised his glass.  “A toast to Summit’s excellent performance this evening, and for reminding me of something I should never lose sight of – the importance of my family and friends.  Cheers.”

The group chatted amicably for a few hours, simply relaxing and enjoying each other’s company.  As the night was winding down, however, a call came through.

“Skywatch to Aaron; come in please,” the Skywatch operator said, his voice practically shaking.

Aaron, always the calm leader replied, “Skywatch, this is Aaron.  What’s the matter?”

The operator continued, “Sir, we’re receiving a coded transmission on an old frequency from Old Earth.  The transmitter is claiming to be your wife, sir.”


	26. Homeland Part One: Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This begins the first of a quintet that "ends" the series in this particular story continuity.

Homeland Part One: Reunion

                A thousand emotions raced through Aaron’s mind like the swirling clouds of the Warp Winds across the _Aristotle’s_ windows.  Was this really happening, or just another false hope and half-dreamt fantasy?  Was his long-gone wife really waiting for him on the surface of Old Earth?

                The transmission Skywatch had forwarded him only hours earlier rang through his head on repeat.  Whatever equipment she had been using was unable to transmit video through the Warp Winds, but hearing Iranda’s voice again…  _“Aaron, please bring me home,”_ she had said, before transmitting a set of coordinates where they could find her.

                The news was spreading like an electrical storm through Airlandis – Iranda had returned.  Aaron, his children, and their dearest friends had sprung into action immediately.  Orak prepped the _Aristotle_ for a quick launch while the dragonators (all of Aaron’s children plus Zarkan, Amod, and Nora) took off immediately – knowing it would take longer for them to reach the surface through the Wind Pits instead of being able to push through the Warp Winds.  Miriam was accompanying them as a medical officer in case of any injuries that needed attending.

                The ship punched through the lower layer of the clouds and into a thundering rainstorm.  Violent electrical discharges surged all around them, and the rain made it nearly impossible to see.

                “I’m switching to night-fight mode,” Orak said, engaging the ship’s sensors.  The old engineer looked at Aaron and clasped his shoulder from the next seat over.  “We’ll find her, Aaron.  The voice matched her audio imprint – it was Iranda; I know it was.”

                Aaron sighed, unsure of what to believe.  “I can only hope we’re not chasing a ghost.”

*****

                Rain lashed the windows of the hovercraft as Iranda sat inside cradling's Cifex's body in her hands, hoping Orak and Aaron would arrive in time to save his life.  In the time since their battle at the Poseidos station, the android's condition had continued to deteriorate, his self-repair nanites slowly losing ground against the massive damage he had sustained protecting her during the explosion.

                "Be strong, my friend," Iranda said.  "Help is on the way soon."

                Cifex simply looked at her, saying nothing.  It went unspoken between them that if help was not forthcoming, it would be his end.  Well, Iranda would be damned if she let that happen.  Gently laying Cifex on the back seat of the hovercraft, she crawled back into the cockpit area and sent out another homing pulse, hoping to draw the attention of anyone looking.  She only hoped it would be friend and not foe.

                The hovercraft had also been damaged in the explosion, and Iranda felt lucky that most of the equipment and the food replicator she had brought back from the _Explorer_ had survived intact.  It was only because of Cifex's mechanical knowledge guiding her repairs that they had gotten this close to Airlandis's flyover territory.  But the trusty little hovercraft had finally given up, and Iranda knew she had to contact Skywatch.  She had used old codes, but finally made it through.  Speaking to Skywatch again...it was wonderful to hear those calm voices.

                The minutes seemed to crawl like hours as Iranda stared into the rain-soaked darkness, seeing the faint red glow of lava pits steaming in the distance.  After the endless desert they had traveled through, she almost welcomed returning to the swampy country that surrounded Dread Wing's territory. 

                A sound reverberated in the distance.  Something stirred in her memory before Iranda realized she was hearing her first dragon roar in almost eighteen years.  Checking to see that Cifex was stable, she stepped out of the hovercraft to greet them.  Despite the rain, Iranda could make out seven dragons.  Seven!  Alongside them soared a large flying craft that reminded Iranda so much of her old beloved _Aristotle_.

                As they neared her location, Iranda waved frantically and shot up a flare illuminating the rocky outcropping the hovercraft had come to rest on.  Her heart sang as the dragons roared in greeting while circling her location.  The aircraft started its descent a small distance from the outcropping, likely not trusting the weight to a possible unstable area.

                That, however, did not stop four of the dragons from landing immediately.  The dragonators launched off their mounts and flew toward her, tearing off their helmets, and Iranda could not stop herself from running, crying, laughing.  Her children - Z'neth, Summit, Apex, and little Peak barreled into her, crying themselves.  She kissed each of them, too happy suddenly to feel sad for all the missed years.  Peak clasped her in his strong arms, seemingly afraid she would disappear again if let her out of his sight for a moment _._

"M-my children," she stuttered, her hands tracing their faces.  "I'm so sorry."  She dissolved into tears again, deep sobs wracking her body.  Her children simply held her, nobody else trusting themselves to say any words now.

                When her tears had dried, Iranda looked up to see Aaron floating toward her.  Floating?  “Oh Aaron,” she said, a hand covering her mouth.  Iranda moved from the embrace of her children toward her husband.  Or the man she found herself hoping beyond hope was still her husband.

                Aaron’s ice blue eyes stared back at her.  “I never gave up looking for you, Iranda…” he said, his voice cracking.  “Are you really here?”

                Iranda’s heart broke seeing how time had changed her husband – his body damaged, his face lined with cares and worry, his beard grey.  But those blue eyes were the same, and they shone with love for her.  He held his free hand to her, and she clasped it.  “I’m here, and I’m never leaving again.  I need to ask for your forgiveness, Aaron.  For leaving you and our family.  I’m sorry.”

                Suddenly, Iranda was pulled into Aaron’s embrace.  They stayed like that for what seemed forever, and when he finally spoke, his voice was rough with emotion.  “What’s important is that you’re home now, with us again.”

                Things became a whirlwind for Iranda as she saw Orak, Miriam, Zarkan, and Amod greeting her.  More tears were shed, and Iranda felt the happiest she had been in years and years.

                “Oh, Orak – I have a companion I need you to look at!” Iranda said, remembering Cifex.  “He was damaged in our last battle.”

                “Battle?” Aaron asked, concern in his voice.  “This conversation certainly isn’t over.”

                Iranda smiled.  “No, we have much to discuss.  But Cifex needs our help now.”

                The color drained from her daughter Apex’s face.  “Cifex…is alive?  But I saw him die at Warnado.”

                “Cifex was the one who saved me, Apex.  He brought me back from the _Explorer_ ,” Iranda explained.

                Iranda guided Orak and the rest of the group back to the small hovercraft.  Orak definitely wanted it loaded up into the cargo hold of the _Aristotle_ , and set Zarkan and Amod the task of towing it back.  While they went to fetch their dragons, though, he peeked in to look at Cifex.  The android had gone completely offline at this point.  Orak pulled out a small hand-scanner and ran it over Cifex, his face definitely unhappy at the readings. “The self-repair nanites are having a hard time keeping up with the cascading system failures.  What happened to you two?  Did you get blown up or something?” the engineer growled.

                “You, ah, might say that’s what happened,” Iranda confessed.  “But can you save him, Orak?  Please do everything you can!”

                The engineer rubbed his head.  “First thing is to get him into a stasis chamber.  Z’neth, Summit, take Cifex back to the ship immediately,” Orak ordered.  “I need precision tools to fix something like this!”

                Aaron gave Iranda a stern look as their children carted away the unconscious android.  “This is definitely not the last discussion we’re having about you almost getting blown up.”

*****

                Iranda hugged each of her children (including Zarkan, and now the hunky boyfriend Amod) before she, Miriam, and Aaron boarded the _Aristotle Mark II._   She smiled as she took in the golden plasteel interior, suddenly feeling so wistful for Airlandis she could hardly stand it.

                Orak was down in the mobile laboratory working on stabilizing Cifex, and Iranda felt she could breathe again for the first time in a week.  She was a decent engineer, but nowhere nearly good enough to repair her dear friend.  Aaron led her to one of the plush cockpit seats, and she sat down gracefully, while Miriam used the food replicator to whip up a few hot beverages and pulled a few blankets out of the storage compartment to heat them all up after standing out in the cold rain for so long.

                Iranda took a delicate sip, savoring the coffee.  Oh, the _Explorer_ had made a passable substitute, but having the real thing again was a treat.  Iranda’s eyes started blurring again, and she wondered when she would stop crying at every little thing.

                “Miriam, is the hovercraft loaded?” Aaron asked, setting his cup down on a console.

                The young scientist nodded.  “Zarkan says they’ve secured it.  We’re clear for takeoff.”

                Aaron nodded.  “Right, then.  I’m taking us up.”

                The _Aristotle_ gave barely a shiver as it lifted off the ground of Old Earth and began its ascent toward the Warp Winds.

                “We’re heading for a Wind Pit, right?” Iranda asked, placing a hand on her husband’s arm.

                He simply smiled at her.  “Orak’s been a busy man while you’ve been away, Iranda,” he chuckled, before taking them straight into the Winds.

                What seemed only moments later, the ship broke through the Warp Winds into the breathtakingly blue sky.  Airlandis was coming to meet them, like a huge amber shining in the newly-risen sunlight.  Aaron took the ship on a few turns around the city, and Iranda drank in the sight, recommitting every golden spire to memory.

                Aaron gently sat the _Aristotle_ down on the dragon dock, where Iranda saw a huge crowd had turned out.  “I see word must have gotten out that we found you.  Damn chatty Skywatch,” Aaron grumbled.

                “It’s not every day someone returns from the dead, you know,” Iranda said quietly, suppressing a shiver.

                Aaron and Miriam gave her a strange look, but said nothing.  “Well, it looks like Head Councilman Joshua himself has come out to greet us,” Miriam said, noting the tall, raven-haired figure at the front of the throng.

                “Man never could pass up a holo opportunity,” Aaron said with a scoff.

                Iranda looked agape.  “Wait…little bratty Josh is now head of the council?”  She let out a low whistle.  There’s something she never imagined happening.  What else would be so different after eighteen years?

                Iranda saw the dragons dock beside them, and her children flying toward the ship.  Orak emerged from the laboratory, the side of his mouth tugged up into a grin.  “Well, I’ve stabilized Cifex,” he said.  “Once I get him back to my shop, I should be able to make him better than new.  Still, his tech is worlds apart from what we use now.  I can’t wait to dig into the hovercraft too.”

                “Oh Orak, thank you!” Iranda said, throwing her arms around her old friend. 

                “I’m glad to see you so happy about a bot, kid,” he replied.

                Iranda shook her head.  “Oh, Cifex is so much more than an android.  The heart of a true man and a hero beats inside.”

                Aaron nodded.  “I look forward to your stories, but for now we must face Airlandis.”

                Iranda’s savored her first deep breath of the sweet, cold air aboveclouds as the ship’s hatch opened and the landing walkway descended.  Her children and their companions were instantly hovering at her side, a floating honor guard.

                Joshua strode toward her, his eyes merry.  Clasping her hand, he asked, “Welcome home, Iranda,” he said while the holocams recorded every minute.  Iranda had no doubt the footage would be playing all over the city by day’s end.

                “Thank you, Joshua,” she replied.  “It’s good to be home.  But I have a very important announcement to make to Airlandis.”

                Joshua executed a small bow.  “Yes, of course.”  He motioned the cameras toward Iranda, who stepped forward as her family stood behind her.

                Iranda took a deep breath before starting her speech.  “Family, friends, citizen of Airlandis, I thank you for the warm welcome home.”  Cheers spontaneously erupted from the gathered crowd.  “I wish we had time for celebrations, but I bring grave news from Old Earth.  Some days ago, my companion and I engaged a number of Dread Wing’s forces in battle over technology that could allow Warnado to fly again.  Fryte acquired rocket boosters that will someday lift the warship into the clouds.  We must prepare ourselves for war.”

*****

                Machines whirred and clicked, flashing lights and making small chirps as Apex sat in Orak's shop.  Her chair was positioned next to the worktable that Cifex's body was laid out on, and she had been there for hours.  Apex was dumbfounded, really, that two of the most important people in her life had been returned at the same time.  It was almost more than she could mentally process.

                She had committed Cifex's lifeless body, burnt by Blackheart's flame, to the Warp Winds.  Apex had scattered flower petals and shed tears for him, her chest tight and missing his nobility and humanity so much she could barely breathe.  It had taken weeks, but she had worked through her grief and gotten back to work.  Her brothers rarely spoke of the incident, unsure of what to do if she started crying again.

The way her mother had described it, however, Cifex had not died.  His soul or brain or neural network or whatever it was had been transmitted to a duplicate body with memories of their time together intact.  And from there he had started wandering Old Earth, destroying pre-Cataclysm technology and looking for any signs of humanity left on the planet.  Apex’s fingers brushed Cifex’s peaceful face, wondering what those lonely months had been like for him.

 _But why couldn’t he have at least let me know he was alive?_ she pondered.  If he didn’t care for her anymore, why would Cifex have gone through all the trouble of returning Iranda to Airlandis?  Whatever the answer, Apex simply wanted him to wake up.  Losing Cifex again would be more than she could bear.  Burying her head in her arms, Apex laid her head on the edge of the table, losing herself in the white noise of the machines.

“Apex,” a voice called to her through dreams. “Wake up, Apex.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she brushed the sleep from them before noticing that Cifex was awake.

“How are you feeling?” she whispered, her throat hoarse and dry.  “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Cifex simply looked at her, sorrow in his eyes.  “All of my systems seem to be functioning within normal parameters.”  He winced at the reference to his robotic nature.  “I remember Iranda radioing for help, even though I told her I would be fine...” he trailed off.  “Am I in Airlandis?”

Apex took the android’s hand, marveling again at how warm and alive it felt.  “Yes.  You’re home now, with me.”

“Don’t say things like that Apex.  Can’t you see I’m wrong for you?  That I can never make you happy?” Cifex said bitterly, turning away from her on the table.

Apex huffed before getting out of the chair and marching around the table.  “I’m a big girl, Cifex.  I think I can decide who I want on my own.  Or don’t you remember me telling Peak off the last time you were here?  Why can’t you accept that my feelings for you are real?” she said, frustration coloring her voice.

Cifex sat up and look at her, pain written across his face.  “Because despite this outward shell, I’m not a real man, Apex.  Because no matter how much I might love you, I’m still an android.  A machine built for war.”

Apex shook her head vehemently before cupping Cifex’s face in her hands and staring straight into his eyes. “That’s not true, Cifex.  I said it at your eulogy, and I’ll say it again for – you are a being more human than most.  You feel, you cry, you love.  That is what makes you human, and that is what gives life to my love for you.”  Apex could feel the tears pricking the corners of her eyes, and saw them mirrored on Cifex’s face.  “If you truly do not love me, then say it now and I will never bring this up again.  We will go our separate ways, and I will still consider you a friend until the end of my life.”

Cifex hung his head in shame.  “Apex, I do still love you.  I have loved you since these eyes opened for the first time.  My heart broke knowing that we would be apart, though I felt at the time it would be better for you.  I felt I couldn’t face you without somehow proving my worth to you and humanity.”

Apex half laughed, half sobbed, throwing her arms around Cifex and burying her face in his shoulder.  “Cifex, you proved your worth the first time we met!  What more could you possibly want to show me?”

“I wanted to find the last traces of humanity on Old Earth.  To reunite your people of Airlandis with any humans left on the surface,” he said quietly, holding Apex in his arms.

Apex sighed.  “I think that’s more than one man can accomplish alone, Cifex.  Besides, you were the one who returned our mother to us, and that means more to me than any possible Oasis ever could.”

She kissed him then, an action that was full of deep longing and pent-up feelings.  When they finally broke apart, she whispered, “Stay with me, Cifex.  Here in Airlandis.  Build a life with me.”

“I still think you’re crazy for wanting someone like me, Apex, but nothing would make me happier than being with you.”  He kissed her, then, and Apex wished for it to never stop.


	27. Homeland Part Two: Terra Firma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holly is property of TInySprite and Ilona is property of Strongheartmaid - both are used with their gracious permission. :)

Homeland Part Two: Terra Firma

                Miriam was close to giddy as she secured her rebreather and helmet tight around her face.  Finally satisfied that there were no openings that would allow spores from the Alayas flowers to enter her lungs and deposit their neurotoxin straight into her bloodstream, she gathered her sample case and joined the team ready to disembark the _Aristotle_. 

Looking around the peaceful summit of Mount Alayas, it all looked so harmless and beautiful.  Hard to believe that months ago humans and mutants had been driven to the brink of insanity by the neurotoxin contained in the indigenous flowers' spores.  Hopefully today would be the end of that nasty business.

                “We’re here to make history, friends,” Iranda said, addressing their small team that had come over on the _Aristotle_. 

*****

                Miriam remembered that it had all started a few weeks after Iranda’s return to Airlandis.  She had been in her lab, of course, still eager to crack the genetic code of the Alayas flowers and potentially engineer a variety that wouldn't make people hallucinate.  But her luck had been just as poor as when she had first started.  Oh, she had sequenced the flower's genome ages ago, but whatever sequence coded for the neurotoxin eluded her.  It was certainly no help that Joshua had repeatedly denied her petitions to take the _Aristotle_ and study the flowers in their natural habitat.  Miriam wasn't the only scientist on Airlandis who wanted to get back to Alayas, either; she knew for a fact that Eleazar wanted to return and finish his geological survey.  Hell, Summit had volunteered to accompany them in case anything went wrong.

                Still, "The Voice of the Council is one," she muttered with mild disgust.  More like Joshua's voice was the only one that mattered.  

                Miriam was pulled out of her reverie by a light knock on the door frame to her lab, and smiled when she saw it was the purple-haired healer Ilona.

"I've come to return the research materials I borrowed from you," Ilona said with a smile.

                Miriam pushed her goggles up onto her thick brown dreads, and beckoned the girl in with a wave.  "You only borrowed them two days ago!  There's no way you could have gotten through a hundred bits of Lasser in that amount of time; he's dry reading of the first order," she added with a chuckle.

Ilona shrugged, setting down the memory cubes on Miriam's desk.  "Actually, I found him fascinating.  Kept me up half the night.  His theories about genetics and healing factors were of particular interest."

Miriam replaced the cubes in her data storage library, before grabbing another few out.  "Then you'll want to follow up with Klausen's work exploring human versus Dramen biology.  The sections that delve into where Dramen physiology moves off from human is fascinating – I think you'll be glad you read it the next time you have any Dramen patients.  The anecdotes of how she got her samples are wickedly funny, too."

                "Thanks," Ilona replied.  "Though I hope I don't fall asleep with my head on the holo-terminal again," she added with a chuckle.

                "Glad I'm not the only one," Miriam said.  

                The two women talked for a few more minutes before Ilona looked at her chrono and said she was due for a shift in sickbay soon. Before she could leave, however, Iranda appeared in the doorway.

                "Well, I'm awfully glad you're both here," the senior scientist said, giving Miriam and Ilona a broad smile.  

                Miriam was still amazed every time she saw Iranda in the flesh.  And that she looked hardly any different from the time she had been lost eighteen years ago; the Starship Explorer must have some damn good skin treatments (something Miriam made a mental note to explore further).  

                Once the hubbub had died down at Iranda's return (and the collective panic at her war announcement had subsided), Summit's mother had returned to the University and thrown herself into preparations for Dread Wing's eventual strike.  Miriam was glad to have her mentor and her boyfriend's mother back.  The woman was a dynamo.

                "Miriam, Ilona, I want you both to meet Holly," Iranda said, shoving a young, curly-haired brunette toward them.  "She works in the Dragon Department, is wicked good with organization, and I may or may not have accidentally made her my temporary assistant," Iranda said with a grin.

                Miriam rolled her eyes, but was smiling, "When you perfect the process of making someone an accidental assistant, do forward me the paper – I could maybe use one of my own."  Turning toward Holly, Miriam extended a hand, "Nice to meet you," she said.

                "Likewise," Holly replied, taking the hand.  Ilona similarly greeted her.

                Once everyone had found seating (no small feat in the cramped, cluttered lab), Iranda addressed them all, "I've brought you all together because I am in need of your expertise for a mission.  As you may know, I brought back technology from the Starship Explorer that allows for terraforming in at least limited amounts.  When I found the files on Mount Alayas, I knew it would be the perfect test site."

                Miriam snorted.  "Good luck with that.  I've been after Joshua for months to let me mount an expedition back to Alayas."

                "The toxin prevents anyone from going back without scads of equipment," Ilona explained.

“Rebreathers and dragonator helmets should be enough for us to function, even if only for limited periods of time,” Iranda replied.  “And as I understand, the _Aristotle_ has quite a good air filtration system for long periods belowclouds.”

Miriam nodded.  “That’s true – equipment isn’t necessarily the issue, though.  You still haven’t solved the Joshua issue.  And if I remember correctly, Aaron wasn’t wild about returning either.”

Iranda smiled, placing her hands on her hips.  “Leave my husband and the Council to me.  In the meantime, let me review each of your assignments when we move forward.  Miriam, I want you to continue your genetic research on the flowers; I know that with live samples your task of isolating the DNA coding for the toxin will be much easier.  Ilona – I want you on hand to monitor all vitals and health of the crew.  And Holly, your task is possibly the most important – we’re all going to wear neural monitors, and you must carefully monitor them for any exposure.  Orak and I will use the terraforming equipment to genetically alter the flowers DNA once our analysis is complete.”

Miriam saluted.  “Aye aye, Captain.”

*****

                “I don’t know how she ever got the clearance,” Summit sighed, digging next to Miriam in the soft earth of the mountain.  “I half think she must have taken a wind jammer into the Council Meeting to get that approval.”

                He got up from their crouched position and stretched, looking around at everyone working at different points on the plateau.  The orange, deadly flowers waved lazily in the cool breeze.  It was beautiful up here on Alayas – Summit had almost forgotten how achingly lovely a paradise this mountain could be for humanity.

                His breath felt warm and humid inside the helmet.  “You know, I envy Cifex not having to wear all these contraptions.  Inspired decision to bring him along on this mission – at least one person here is immune from going crazy.”

                "He wasn't keen on leaving Apex behind, though," Miriam said, securing a few of the flowers into an airtight sample kit.  

                Summit looked down at his girlfriend and smiled.  "I can't say I'd be pleased at being pulled away from you if we'd been apart for almost a year either.  Those two have earned a little bit of happiness, I think."

                Miriam smiled back at him.  "According to Holly, Apex's mental sensitivity puts her at a far greater risk if she returns here before terraforming is complete, though.  The hallucinations would be a hundred times worse for her, or any of the Dragonators who can communicate with more than one dragon."

                Miriam stood up and brushed the dirt from her flight suit.  Summit picked up the sample case, and they made their way back to the Aristotle.  Once inside the ship, he and Miri went through the standard decon procedure that Ilona had set up and supervised, including blood tests and a mental evaluation.  It was a long, tiring procedure just to exit the ship and return, but Summit would go through anything to not experience those hallucinations again.

                "So, how are mother and Orak coming with their end of the preparations?" Summit asked Miriam as they finally sat down for a bit of lunch in the lounge, joined by Ilona, Holly, Eleazar, and Aaron.  There had been some discussion whether it was wise for Aaron to take extended leave of his post as Commander of the Dragonator Corps, but the man would absolutely not be dissuaded from accompanying his wife on this important mission.

                "Unfortunately, their end of things is contingent on my research," Miriam answered.  "The live samples are exactly what I needed, though.  I really feel like I'm getting close to finding the genes that code the neurotoxin."

                Ilona spoke up at this point.  "I know Miriam could bioengineer a single flower, but I'm still unsure of how that equipment is actually going to change an entire ecosystem."

                "You must remember that the technology Iranda brought back from the _Starship Explorer_ was designed to make _whole worlds_  habitable," Aaron said.  "It uses a matter-energy conversion matrix to build flora and fauna suitable to the colonists based on a combination of the available building blocks and elements that can be introduced from stored information.  I confess my skepticism and incomplete understanding of it, though."

                "So simply changing one plant should be simple for such a device, then," Eleazar said.

                Summit shrugged.  "I'm just hoping the amber generator system Orak rigged will supply enough power."

                "Oh, it'll supply enough power all right,” Orak’s gruff voice came from the entrance to the lounge.  “You don’t need to worry about that.”  He and Iranda joined the rest of the team in grabbing a bite to eat.

                “The new power extraction method we’ve been testing is working great,” Iranda added.  “Almost thirty percent more power per crystal!”

                “And the Explorer’s tech isn’t proving to be unwieldy to connect to our power sources?” Aaron asked.

                Orak shrugged.  “Well, it’s not easy if that’s what you mean.  But you know I like a challenge.”

                Iranda giggled.  “I think the most challenging part was getting you to leave those reactors on Airlandis!”

                “Which reminds me I need to get my daily report from those rivetheads you forced me to leave in charge.  We’ll be lucky to find a city at all when we get back,” Orak grumbled, getting up and depositing his clean plate in the food replicator for reprocessing.

                “When this mission is a success, maybe that problem can be alleviated,” Iranda said.

*****

                Aaron sat at the controls of the _Aristotle_ , what would be central command for the operation.  Around him were Ilona monitoring the team’s vitals and Holly monitoring neural activity.  “Team One, are you ready to begin?” he asked.

                “We’re ready, dear,” Iranda replied through the comm system.  She, Cifex and Orak were manning the terraforming array on top of the ship, getting ready to send out the pulse that would hopefully transform Alayas into a habitable home.

                “The array is fully charged, and there are no fluctuations in the power level.  My amber reactor appears to be working quite nicely,” Orak added.

                A smile tugged at the corner of Aaron’s mouth.  “Very good, Team One.  Team Two, what is your status?”

                “We’re monitoring the mountain and the genetics of the flowers,” Miriam replied.  “Now that we finally isolated the right gene, I’ll know the minute it’s changed.”  Miriam and Eleazar were down in the lab watching Alayas for any signs of geologic stress and to make sure the flowers actually changed for the better after the pulse was activated.

                “Acknowledged, Team Two,” Aaron replied.  “Be sure to notify us at the slightest transformation.  Now, Dragon Flyz Team One, are you in position?”

                “We’re ready to rip some air, father!” Peak replied before Z’neth could properly answer.

                Z’neth face appeared on the view screen.  “In case you wanted a real report, we’re in the designated positions.”  Aaron nodded.  The Dragon Flyz had been called in for the last part of the operation and were equipped with sensors that would guide the beam of the terraforming array, making sure that the entire mountain – all the way to where it disappeared in the Warp Winds – would be covered.

“We’ll keep the communication channel open, so each team please update as we go along,” Aaron said before taking a deep breath.  “Commence Operation Homeland,” he finally said.

                “Bringing the array online,” Iranda said.  “Power building – fifty, seventy, ninety, one hundred percent!” she said.  “Dragon Flyz – here it comes!”

                Blue light cascaded like a wave from the array on top of the _Aristotle_ , moving outward from the central point.  Aaron saw Z’neth, Summit, Peak, and Apex activate the sensor modules, drawing boundaries for the energy just as they had practiced.  The wave stopped as it came in contact with the sensors.

                “Is everything stable Iranda?” Aaron asked, letting out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

                “Yes.  The wave pattern appears to be holding, and no power fluctuations are noted,” Cifex answered.

                “All dragonator life signs are stable,” Ilona added.

                Holly chimed in as well, “The dragons appear to be unaffected by the terraforming wave as well.”

                Aaron nodded.  “Proceed with Phase Two of the operation.”

“We’re beginning our descent,” Z’neth said.  While Summit and Peak held two of the sensors in a circling motion around the top of the mountain, Z’neth and Apex directed Riptor and Blaze Wind toward the Warp Winds.  As the dragons disappeared from Aaron’s sight, the energy wave followed them down past the plateau’s edge.

All was deathly quiet for a few minutes while the two dragonators did their work before Apex came on the screen.  “We’re at the base of the Warp Winds, Father!” she yelled above the gale-force storm howling beneath their dragons.

“Iranda, are you ready to proceed with Phase Three?” Aaron asked.

“I’m beginning the countdown to terraforming,” she replied.  “Five, four, three, two, one.”  On the last count, the blue light began to increase in intensity and move in a vortex pattern around Alayas. 

Aaron’s vision turned a shade of cerulean, and it felt to him as though the sky itself was covering them.  “Eleazar, Miriam, I need a report!” Aaron said, breaking his short reverie.

“The mountain is stable – no apparent geologic stress,” Eleazar answered.

“The flowers are actually…changing…” Miriam said, her voice filled with awe.  “Their genetic code is being rewritten as we speak.  It’s too early to tell the full extent of the changes, though,” she almost whispered.

The energy cloud continued to brighten until Aaron was forced to put the blast shields down over the main windows.

“The array will need to continue its work for at least another hour,” Iranda said over the comm.  “Dragon Flyz, are you all right to stay in your current positions?” she asked, concern for their children coloring her voice.

“We’ll be all right, Mother,” Aaron heard Summit say.  “You can count on us to see this through.”

That hour was the longest and most horrible in Aaron’s recent memory.  His children out there, exposed to potentially harmful effects of the terraforming ray.  Still, he could help but feel their bravery did them credit, and made him proud.  When Iranda and Orak finally gave the call to shut down the array and for the dragonators to return to the plateau, Aaron let out a deep sigh.

“All teams, give me a report,” he said.

“We went through ten ambers powering this gizmo,” Orak grumbled, “so I hope it worked!”

“All vital signs of Dragonator One appear normal and healthy,” Ilona said with a smile.  “Though I recommend a full workup when we’re done here.”

“Seconded for the dragons as well,” Holly said.  “Though all my neural scans are negative for the toxin.”

“A relief indeed,” Aaron said.

“The mountain is stable and geographically unchanged from my first scan,” Eleazar said.  “The natural springs made it through as well, which is a relief.”

“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” Miriam said.  “The flowers’ genetic code was not only stripped of the gene coding for the neurotoxin, but has been rewritten to produce a compound that I can think of having a number of wonderful medical applications.”  Aaron heard cheers reverberate across the comm line, and couldn’t resist smiling himself.

“We’re going to set down on the plateau, Father,” Z’neth said.  “It’s our job to test safety for potential inhabitants.”

“I’ll be monitoring you for the slightest change,” Holly said.

“Be careful, my dears,” Iranda added.

Aaron opened the blast shields in time to see Riptor, Blaze Wind, Sky Fury, and Wing Storm land in front of the _Aristotle_.  He was a bit dismayed to see Peak pull off his helmet almost instantly and roll around in the tall grasses, but thought he might do the same if their roles were reversed.  Aaron didn’t want to get his hopes up too greatly in case this turned out to be another disappointment, but hope’s flame burned inside him.

“No change in their neurotoxin levels,” Ilona said.

“Or their neural activity,” Holly said.  “I think it might be safe for us to go outside, sir.”

Aaron nodded.  “Ilona, Holly, take remote consoles with you just in case.  I want everyone still on the monitors.  And Cifex,” he added.  “As the only one immune, please keep an eye on all of us.”

“Acknowledged, sir,” Cifex said.  Aaron stifled a sigh – that boy was still entirely too formal around him.

Iranda, Orak, and Cifex climbed down the ladder from their perch with the array, and were joined by Eleazar and Miriam from the lab.  Aaron floated toward the loading bay doors, trailed by Ilona and Holly.  “Z’neth, we’re opening the doors,” Aaron said through his vox box.

Orak activated the control, and the bay doors began their descent.  Aaron caught a floral whiff as fresh air seeped into the cargo hold.  Iranda moved to stand beside him, clasping his hand tightly. 

“All for this moment, my love,” she whispered.  When the doors had finished opening, they were greeted by the smiling face of their children amid a sea of orange blooms waving in the breeze.

“This is a historic moment, friends,” Aaron said, looking at the faces of those around him.  Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, and his voice grew thick with emotion.  “We have taken the first step on our journey to heal and reclaim Earth for humanity.  Let Alayas be an example – a shining beacon of hope to those that follow.  Let it proclaim that humanity has learned a hard and bitter lesson, and come through all the stronger.”

Aaron’s children grabbed him in a tight hug, and the old man thought his heart could barely contain the joy he felt.


	28. Homeland Part Three: Crusade

Homeland Part Three: Crusade

                “All our scouting missions report thousands of gremwings massing around Warnado,” Zarkan said, looking around the table.  He was joined by Z’neth, Aaron, Dram, and Nocturna for their daily strategy mission.

                “That is not all, however,” Dram added.  “Word among the Dramen tribes says that Vidak and Kreigo are in talks with Dread Wing to join his assault force.”  Zarkan saw Aaron sigh, and Z’neth’s face took on a grave look. 

                “Dread Wing appealing to the Dark Dramen warlords’ avarice isn’t unexpected,” said Nocturna.  “He’s out for your blood this time, and he knows his best chance of winning is by gathering all his possible allies.  I’m not sure what he has to offer them at this point, considering past failures, but Dread is making this his final stand.  Even his father Asmodeus never gathered an army so large.”

                Despite his initial mistrust of the blue-skinned mutant, Zarkan was glad that Nocturna had joined their sessions.  Her knowledge of Dread Wing and Warnado’s inner workings had proven invaluable on more than one occasion.

                “All that _and_ Warnado able to fly again?” Zarkan asked.  “What are the chances Airlandis can survive an assault of that magnitude?”

                Aaron looked solemn.  “Not very good, I’m afraid.  Even with all available dragonators, we’ve had trouble beating back Dread Wing alone.  Their combined forces and the guns of Warnado?”  Aaron paused here and met each of their eyes.  “Airlandis is unlikely to survive such an attack.”

                “Not that we’re not planning,” Z’neth interjected.  “With Mother and Cifex’s help, Orak has diverted all available resources into building ten new Warp Cannons.”

                “Let’s hope they work better than the prototype,” Nocturna snickered, referencing the last time Warnado had gotten aboveclouds.

                Z’neth moved on.  “The tech team has also begun equipping the Strato-Glider fleet with Wind Jammers.”

                Zarkan practically rolled his eyes.  “Strato-Gliders against gremwings and dragon-mounted riders?  There’s no way they’re maneuverable enough!”

                “If you’ve got a better suggestion, I’m all ears,” Z’neth said tersely.

                Zarkan looked around the table.  “Don’t you see?  Alayas is the answer – we need to evacuate the civilian population to the mountain.  It wouldn’t be comfortable, but at least there are enough facilities there now to take everyone in.”

                “Joshua and the Council would never agree to such a plan,” Aaron scoffed.  “They would view it as abandoning our home and future.”

                “But with the terraforming technology, our future isn’t here anymore,” Zarkan said.  “It’s back down on Old Earth.  Hasn’t Alayas always been a step toward that?”  The room was quiet for a few moments as that thought struck the dragonators gathered there.

                “Perhaps you are right,” Aaron finally said, breaking the silence.  “I’ll present the idea at the Council meeting tomorrow morning, though I know it will be shot down.  At the very least it can function as a reserve plan.”

                “What about the biospheres, Father?” Z’neth asked.  “Some of them contain the last known surviving members of their species.”

                “They each have a small amber reactor for power and flight,” Aaron answered.  “A team of dragons or the _Aristotle_ could easily tow them to Alayas.  We’d have to open the dome to get them out, though.  Another item to add to my list for the Council tomorrow.”

                “I’m afraid the old fools are beginning to develop a distaste for you, Aaron,” Nocturna said, her golden eyes trained on the Dragonator leader. “Seeing as how you continually bring them bad news they do not wish to confront or deal with.  Would it not be more effective to declare martial law and simply direct what needs to be done?  You waste precious time while your people’s survival hangs in the balance.”

                Zarkan for once had to agree with Nocturna.  Aaron placed a hand on the mutant’s shoulder.  “Though we may not agree on the best course to take, their thoughts are still valuable.  Solutions can come from unlikely places.”

                “You can be sure Dread Wing does not share your love of discourse.  Even now he is directing the steps to create his new empire,” Nocturna replied.

                “Then if it is our tolerance and fairness that separates us from the Lord of Warnado, I will always choose to value the opinions of others,” Aaron said, a kindly smile on his face.  Zarkan valued Nocturna as an ally and a dragonator under his command (and maybe even a friend?), but he was never sure he would understand how Aaron had taken the mutant woman under his wing.

                “If that’s everything, we’ll meet again tomorrow after the Council meeting and make our plans then,” Z’neth said.

*****

                “After your last failure, you will not question my terms, Vidak,” Dread Wing spat at the Dark Dramen warlord.  He grabbed the dramen’s tunic front and pulled him in close for extra emphasis.  “And should it reach my all-hearing ears that you utter any whisper of insubordination or treachery during the battle, there will be no corner of Old Earth that will shelter you from my wrath.”      Dread shoved Vidak backwards, smirking as the warlord almost fell onto the stone floor of Warnado’s throne room.

                “Of course, _Lord_ Dread Wing,” Vidak simpered, though Dread could still see the fury behind his eyes.  “My troop will be ready by the appointed hour.”  Dread Wing sneered as Vidak bowed his way out of the throne room. 

                That was the easy one to intimidate.  Kreigo would be much harder to keep in line.  Dread had appealed to Kreigo’s misguided sense of honor, knowing that brute force and threats would do little good in swaying the other Dark Dramen warlord to stay true to Warnado’s banner.  But Dread knew that if Kreigo felt the battle would weaken his forces to the point that he couldn’t keep the Highlands territory in check, the Dark Dramen wouldn’t hesitate to abandon the initiative.

                Further impetus to secure a victory then, and pluck the humans’ false wings forever.  Dread Wing hated to admit it, but he knew this was his final chance at conquering the floating city of Airlandis.  If Warnado crashed again, there would be no way to repair it this time.  Gangryn had made sure he understood that. 

                Dread Wing spread his scarlet wings and flew to the pinnacle of Warnado.  Stretched out before his eyes, the Lord could see his sizable holdings – dramen slaves, lava rivers flowing with amber crystals, flocks of gremwings.  Yet for all he owned on Old Earth, Dread Wing was not satisfied.

                He would never be satisfied until he owned the sky itself.

*****

                Peak grinned as he and Nora shook hands with the leader of the F.I.S.T. Fighters.  After their encounter with the small warriors, Peak and Nora had become something of unofficial ambassadors to the humans living in the subterranean caverns of Old Earth.  Well, after Peak had gotten over the whole dangling over lava as a sacrifice to the amber gods bit, anyway.  “Thank you again for your support,” Peak said.  “Airlandis owes you a great debt for these amber crystals.”

                The short, red-haired man smiled.  “Not at all, Peak.  We hope to help more than this when the battle comes.”  He held up the communicator Peak had gifted them months ago.  “Call us when the darkness closes in, and the F.I.S.T. Fighters will defend humanity as the Sacred Amber commands us.”

                “You know you are always welcome in Airlandis, Chief,” Nora said.

                The little man chuckled.  “No, I once thought that only mutants could survive aboveground, and though you proved me wrong, I still think the ground is the best place for humans to be; we were never meant to go so high, I think.”

                “At least promise to visit some time,” Peak chided.  “Well, some time when we’re not facing destruction, anyway.”

                “Your offer is greatly appreciated.  Perhaps someday, my friends,” the Chief said with a wave as Nora and Peak exited the caverns and returned to Wing Storm and Goliath.

                Peak breathed a sigh of relief once Stormy was loaded up with the ambers and had taken off.  Despite the Chief’s feelings, Peak never felt as at home as when he was high above the clouds on dragon wings.

                Opening a vox channel to Nora, he asked, “So, word is you’re finally getting that promotion to commander of Dragonator Three.  Congratulations, babe,” Peak said.

                Nora rolled her eyes at him on the screen.  “Is this really the best time to talk about this, Peak?”

                “Hey, I hardly get to see you anymore!  When are we supposed to talk about it?” Peak answered in a huffy tone.

                “Maybe when everyone’s lives aren’t counting on us bringing back these ambers safely?” Nora replied.

                Peak couldn’t help from grinning.  “So that means we are going to talk about it?  Preferably over dinner somewhere other than the Replimat?”

                Nora groaned.  “Sometimes you’re impossible, Tiger.  That dinner will never come if Orak kills us for being late with his precious crystals.”

                “Well, you know how I live to make Orak happy,” Peak said, winking at Nora.  Wing storm simply rumbled, expressing his displeasure with Peak’s bad jokes.

*****

                “Come on, you rivetheads, get that opening sealed!” Orak roared as hot steam whooshed out of the crack in the thermal piping.  It was bad enough that Peak and Nora had been late with that crystal delivery, but now his underlings had nicked the cooling system lines while setting up the final Warp Cannon.  Grumbling, Orak pulled down his face shield and jumped into the fray, pushing a few of his technicians out of the way in order to seal up the leak.  If he left it to them they’d still be working when the city came under attack.

When the leak had been sealed and tested to his satisfaction, the Master Technician moved on to checking that the cannon was receiving power from the central amber reactors.  With the rate of building that they had undertaken in preparation for the upcoming battle and the Warp Cannons' massive power uptake, the dragonators had been making several extra runs to Old Earth almost daily, in addition to all the drills Z'neth had ordered.  Orak almost wanted Dread Wing to just attack, for the simple reason that he wouldn't have all this extra work on his plate.

Orak hopped into the seat attached to the back of the cannon, and flipped the switches that would activate the main terminal.  He was satisfied to see the targeting systems come to life (a handy gift from Cifex) and that everything registered as being in good working order.  Orak targeted a cloud formation not far off from the city and fired, delighted when the energy blast cut through the clouds.

"Someone get me some targeting discs!" Orak yelled.  Moments later, three of the hovering discs used by the dragonators for Wind Jammer target practice were buzzing around their computer-controlled, flight patterns.  They were ideal for learning to target small, mobile objects like gremwings.

"Let's see what this baby can really do," Orak muttered.  Programming the targeting computer, Orak was satisfied when the Warp Cannon shot off three perfectly timed blasts, incinerating the targeting discs.

Hopping out of his seat, Orak addressed his team.  “Now remember, we’re working in teams of three at each cannon.  One gunner and two support staff monitoring the power and stability of the apparatus.  The computers are programmed to not fire on any dragons or humanoid shapes, but you can manually override that if any of the cragfaces get too close.  And don’t forget,” he added, “the cannons have some mobility on their platforms, so if you don’t have anything to shoot, try to find a better angle.”

“But sir,” one of the technicians asked, “if there are thirty of us manning the Warp Cannons, who’ll be monitoring the amber reactors?”

Orak shoved a thumb at his own chest.  “Who else, genius?  I’m going to be working the central amber reactor and making sure everything goes smoothly on that end.  Cannons won’t do a lick of good without power after all.”

Orak turned around to leave before twisting his head around and giving his boys a wicked grin.  “We’re gonna give ‘em hell, boys, and I expect to see you all alive at the victory party.”

*****

                Dread Wing stood at the top of Warnado and surveyed the army gathered around him.  He was flanked on either side by Vidak and Kreigo, with Fryte and Gangryn close at hand.  Below them were thousands of gremwings and sizeable numbers of Dark Dramen and mutant warriors.  “My children!” he yelled, his voice amplified by speakers.  “Today is the day we claim final victory over the humans.  Today is the day we rise from the ashes and take the floating city of Airlandis for our own.  Today is the day we prove that Mutants and Dark Dramen are the future, and that the feeble humans are the past!”

                The crowd below him roared with bloodlust.  Dread Wing smiled, relishing the sensation as their feelings of hatred bolstered him, gave him strength.

                “In one hour, Warnado will rise again like a blazing spear through the Warp Winds and pierce the soft underbelly of humanity.  Their final hour is at hand!”  The crowd roared again.  “And remember, any who bring me the heads of our hated enemy the Dragon Flyz will receive rewards and riches worthy of a king, and take their place as my new lieutenants!”  Dread paused for a moment as the cheers rang across the crowd before dying down.  “And now, my children, to arms!”

*****

                Zarkan was jolted from his respite by the klaxons sounding everywhere.  Within moments, Joshua’s grave face appeared on every monitor.  “This is a D3 Alert.  Repeat, this is a D3 Alert.  All dragonators report to your emergency launch positions.  Warnado has broken through the Warp Winds.  Repeat, Warnado has broken through the Warp Winds!  Airlandeans, get to your Strato-Glider evac positions for possible city-wide evacuation.”

                Zarkan pulled on his helmet before saying “Maximize!” to activate his exo-wings.  Flying through the streets of Airlandis, Zarkan made a beeline for the Dragon Dock.  Nora and Nocturna were already there suiting up.  His dragon Thunder roared a greeting as he settled in the saddle.

                “You look good in our colors, Lady Blue,” Zarkan said, giving Nocturna a wink. “Just don’t forget who you’re fighting for out there.”

                Nocturna rolled her golden eyes.  “Dread Wing has as much reason to want me dead as you.  I see no reason to defend him at this point.”

                Zarkan nodded.  “Where’s Amod?” he asked Nora. 

                “He was up in Skywatch checking out the data numbers,” she answered.

                At that moment, Zarkan’s boyfriend came flying in carrying a data pad.  “I’m here!” Amod said.  “And things look worse out there than any of us could have imagined, he said, as the four of them huddled in a circle around his data pad.  Amod pulled up a holo that showed the two rocket boosters pushing Warnado up through the clouds before the warship disgorged thousands of gremwings on a flight path straight for the city.  Video from the camera drone continued to show mutants and Dark Dramen emerge after the gremwings.  The camera briefly showed the screeching face of a gremwing before it went to static.

                “I don’t think we can stand up to that kind of onslaught for very long,” Nora said, her voice quiet.

                “But we’re going to do our best.  I foresee a D4 alert being called soon,” Zarkan said, “and we’ll need to give the civilians a chance to escape to Alayas.  Now, let’s mount up and burn some wing.”

                Nora and Nocturna flew off to mount their dragons, but Amod stayed behind a moment.  He pulled Zarkan into a fierce hug and kissed him hungrily.  “Don’t do anything stupid out there, Zarkan,” Amod whispered.  “Come back to me.”

                Zarkan’s throat was tight as he simply nodded.  “You too, lover,” he replied.

*****

                Peak discharged his wind jammer again and again.  A gremwing got too close and scratched his arm, drawing blood before Peak vaporized it.  Wing Storm roared before his massive jaws bit down on a mutant that had been barreling toward them.  With a toss of his head, the mighty purple dragon chucked the monstrosity aside into a cloud of gremwings.

                Peak’s breaths came in rapid, shallow gasps.  He was tiring, and the battle was going poorly at best.  Z’neth was pinned down fighting Fryte, and Apex and Summit had been going round after round with Kreigo and Vidak.  Dread Wing had yet to make an appearance. 

The Lord of Warnado’s forces had almost immediately surrounded Airlandis, and now dragonators were trying to fight off incursions into their lines from multiple points.  The rain of laser cannon fire from Warnado didn’t help matters any, either.  At least the new Warp Cannons were inflicting damage right back, Peak noted with grim satisfaction.

                Cifex’s voice came over the comm from Skywatch, where the android was hooked up to the computer system and monitoring the battle, directing troop movements with Aaron and the rest of the Skywatch team.  “Dragonator Three, a large squadron of Dark Dramen are converging on your position.  Hold back for a moment and give Warp Cannons seven and eight time to fire.”

                Breaking his attention away for a moment, Peak could see Team Three to the left of them and saw the dragons scramble while the Warp Cannons unloaded into the oncoming Dark Dramen, sending smoking husks falling from the battlefield.

                “Get your mind back in the game, little bro,” Summit said, flying by and shooting off a Dark Dramen that had snuck up behind Peak’s position. “Olin’s got everything under control with Dragonator Three, but we could use a little help here!”

                Just then, Peak caught sight of a small, spindly dragon and rider flanked by four Dark Dramen warriors flying out of Warnado and charging toward Airlandis.  Specifically toward the main amber reactors.  “Orak!” Peak yelled into his vox box, “You’re going to be having some company!  Looks like Gangryn is on his way to your position, and he’s bringing friends!”

                “Hold him off as long as possible!” the Master Technician growled back across the channel.  “I’m going to retract the generator into the city!”

                Apex gave a cry of pain and clutched at her head after Peak closed the connection with Orak.  “Peak, take over for me!” she yelled, veering around on Blaze in the opposite direction and flying off.  “I’m going after Gangryn – something brushed my mind, and it felt suspiciously like the Brain Slave.  If Gangryn’s got a psychic weapon with him, the whole city might fall!”

                “Right-o, sis!” Peak said, bringing Wing Storm about and firing a shot directly at Kreigo.

*****

                “Faster, Blaze!” Apex yelled above the wind and the explosions raging all around them.  In the complete and utter hell she had dived into, Apex almost lost sight of Gangryn, but a quick mental pulse found him quickly, mainly due to the psychic energy practically rolling off of him in waves.  Apex had never felt anything so powerful before.  Though she had worked with her father on developing her mental telepathy and telekinesis in the wake of the Brain Slave and Dark Dream events, Apex suddenly wished she had spent a little more time practicing. 

                Blaze deftly veered to the side, avoiding a plasma blast from Warnado that tore into the city’s dome.  _Dammit Joshua, sound a D4 Alert and get everyone out!_  Apex was borderline furious with the Council.

                As Blaze flew overtop the city’s dome, Apex opened a vox channel to Cifex.  “Cifex, I’ve broken off from Dragonator One for a moment.  Gangryn is making a run on the central amber reactors.  Orak’s trying to pull them up, but I’m not sure there’ll be enough time.  The mutant’s also giving off incredible psychic waves.  I think he might have a psy-weapon.”

                “Acknowledged, Apex,” Cifex replied.  “Do you require backup?  I can be down there in two clicks.”

                “Negative, Cifex.  It’s more important that you stay in Skywatch and direct the battle.  Only your neural net is powerful enough to run the scenarios,” Apex said, touched that he would have dropped everything to back her up.  “But I’ll keep an open vox channel just in case.”

                As she approached the amber reactor from the opposite side of the city, Apex could just make out a firefight going on on the other side between Orak, his techs, and the Dark Dramen warriors Gangryn had brought with him.  Apex’s didn’t hesitate and yelled, “Maximize!” before jumping off of Blaze Wind and letting her Exo-Wings carry her into the fray.  Moments after she entered the reactor chamber, it finished pulling back into the city.

                “Orak, get down!” Apex yelled, setting her Wind Jammer to wide dispersal as the technicians ducked.  She shot a blast across the Dark Dramen, knocking two of them to the ground.

                “A most impressive display, female,” Gangryn said, stepping forward from behind a support column.  The spindly inventor was decked out in an armored suit and helmet that covered his eyes.  Tubes crisscrossed the entire apparatus, carrying a glowing red liquid.  And strapped to the armor’s back was an amber crystal.

                “Nice outfit, Gangryn.  But I think you forgot eye holes,” Apex said, aiming a shot at the mutant.  The moment she was about to fire, though, her arm was jerked violently by unseen forces, sending the blast wildly out of range.

"Apex, keep that Wind Jammer holstered," Orak hissed.  Apex saw that her errant blast had nicked one of the cooling pipes, releasing a jet of superheated steam into the room.  Apex grabbed Orak and they both scurried behind the main reactor.  Apex took out the zoomerang that she and her brothers favored as a backup weapon.  

"Really, I expected much better from you, Apex," she heard Gangryn say.  "A _zoomerang_ against my new Brain Slave?  Do you think me a dog, to come at me with sticks?" Gangryn said, contempt dripping from every word.  “I am far beyond your mortal power now, girl.”

The blood drained from Apex's face.  If Gangryn had really reconstructed the Brain Slave - and made it mobile on top of everything - then she was possibly the city's last hope.  Settling her mind, Apex spoke mentally to Orak.   _Get everyone out of here and sound a D4 Alert.  We don't have much time.  Gangryn could take the whole city down if what he says is true._

Orak looked startled to hear her voice in his head, but nodded grimly before directing his team silently out of the crystal reactor chamber.  Apex held her zoomerang and concentrated, trying to mentally locate Gangryn’s precise position in the room.  Her only chance was to knock out the amber crystal that powered the suit or cut its power somehow.

There!  A brightly incandescent shape seemed to appear from inside the steam, and Apex threw the zoomerang with all her strength.  It whistled as it revolved, only to get lost inside the steam.  Moments later, Apex heard it hit the far wall and fall to the ground.

As she moved to retrieve it, Gangryn was suddenly behind her.  Without the scrawny mutant making a motion, Apex felt a crushing weight fall upon her, pinning her to the ground.  With a loud snap, the weight shifted to her leg, instantly shattering the bones.  Apex screamed, her mind going black for an instant in the haze of pain.

“ _Who is the superior being now, my pet?”_ Gangryn said mentally with a chuckle, lightly stepping over Apex’s crumpled form.  “ _I have won, and now your precious city falls to mutants.  The last light of humankind will be extinguished.”_

Through all the pain, Apex could feel vibrations in the city, and she knew that a silent D4 Alert had been sounded – the dome was opening to release the biospheres.  She quickly erected mental shields around this information as Aaron had taught her.  Apex had to keep Gangryn talking as long as possible, keep the reactors running, and give everyone a chance to escape.

“The city falls to Dread Wing, you mean,” she managed to choke out in a whisper, refusing to let Gangryn anywhere near her thoughts now.  “You’re nothing more,” she gasped, “than a flunky.”

Gangryn’s head snapped back to her from where he had been inspecting the amber reactors.  “Why do all the grunt work myself?” he asked.  “Once Dread Wing captures Airlandis, it will be a simple matter of liquefying his small mind and taking his place.  And then to building my own empire – one where the smart survive, and the hulking brutes die.  It will be a glorious age, indeed!”  He smiled a sickening smile, revealing his crooked and misshapen teeth.  “As one of the mentally gifted, you could be…part of that empire, Apex.  Every Emperor needs and Empress after all,” Gangryn said, his tongue running over his lips in a way that turned Apex’s stomach.

Apex spat on the ground.  “I would rather die, beast.”

Gangryn simply shrugged.  “Then you have sealed your own fate, female.”  The mutant’s voice was cold and calculating.

Gangryn reached out his hand and placed it over Apex’s forehead.  “Still, a mind like yours is a terrible thing to waste.  Which is why the Brain Slave will take your power, adding it to my own.  This has the unfortunate side effect of leaving you vegetative, but after today nobody will care about one more crippled dragonator.”

His touch brought searing fire to Apex’s mind.  All Apex’s memories seemed to circle her in a great spiral: birth, meeting Blaze, flying with her brothers, her parents, Cifex.  Apex dove into the memories, wrapping them around her like a river, a barrier against Gangryn’s entry.

She stood on a nondescript field facing Gangryn.  “Are you such a fool to attack me in my own mind, mutant?” Apex said with a laugh.  “My brain, my rules!”  Apex threw her hands out, and the dirt of the field grew and formed itself into an army of dragons.  They pounced on Gangryn, but before they could tear him apart, the mutant had grown as tall as a Wind Pit, towering over all the proceedings below.

“Hah!  Even in your mind, I reign supreme!” he gloated, stomping the dirt dragons underfoot until they were nothing but dust.

Apex crafted spears of light that launched themselves at Gangryn, tearing through his armor and shrinking the mutant back to normal size.  With another part of her mind, Apex reached out with her mental powers, grabbing the discarded zoomerang and pulling it back toward her.  It arced through the reactor chamber before burying itself in the amber crystal.

The mental landscape cracked and broke apart like the amber crystal that powered Gangryn’s suit as the mutant lost control of his mental powers.  Unfortunately, he was still partially connected to Apex, and the telekinetic backlash blew them apart.  Apex hit the wall with a sickening crack, but even as her vision swam, she knew she was better off than Gangryn.

The mutant’s suit was short-circuiting, and as he lost control of his motor functions Gangryn stumbled into the main amber generator.  The suit ignited the reactor, and Gangryn was vaporized in the explosion.  Apex barely had time to wrap a telekinetic bubble around her before being bombarded with debris.

Then, with a sickening lurch, the floor began to tilt.

*****

                “The last of the Strato-Gliders are away!” Cifex told Aaron, looking on his monitor as the small fleet of ships made their way to Mount Alayas, the Aristotle among them towing the biospheres.  Outside of the Skywatch tower, the battle raged on, but with the citizens having abandoned the city, more of the dragonators had been pulled away to cover their escape.

                Aaron felt sick.  They had lost.  Airlandis was lost.

                “Sir, I’ve lost contact with Apex,” Cifex added, a note of panic in the android’s voice.  “Permission to find her, sir.”

                “Granted,” Aaron said, waving his hand.  Cifex needn’t be kept from Apex.  The battle was forfeit.

                Cifex never had a chance to leave, however, before Z’neth, Peak, Nora, and Nocturna appeared on the elevator.  “Mother and Joshua are leading the escape, but we’ve got to evacuate everyone here,” Z’neth commanded, making a sweeping motion toward the door.

                “We can’t leave yet – Apex is still unaccounted for!” Cifex cried.  At that moment, the city shook violently, throwing several of the workers from their chairs.  Several of the consoles exploded in showers of sparks, and all the lights dimmed to emergency levels.

                Aaron pulled up his console.  “We’re lost main power from the central reactor, and turbines three through six have shut down completely!”  He could feel the city beginning to fall rapidly while it also lurched to one side as the remaining turbines pushed the city into a free spin.

                “We’re approaching the Warp Winds!” Nocturna yelled from the station she had taken over.  The city experienced a massive airquake as it slammed into the Warp Winds and flipped end over end.

                “Structural integrity is down to twenty percent!” Peak said.  “If we don’t gain some altitude, Airlandis is history!”

                The city made a final flip, landing upside down.  Instantly, the tall Skywatch tower was thrust deep into the howling winds.  Aaron couldn’t hear a thing until a sickening crack reverberated through the room.  _By dragondom, the tower is being ripped from the city,_ he realized.

                And with a final jolt, the Skywatch Tower broke free from Airlandis and plummeted into the Warp Winds, carrying them with it.


	29. Homeland Part Four: Survivors

Homeland Part Four: Survivors

"Fire the grappling guns!" Dread Wing roared at the dramen slaves, followed by the hiss of the lines as they shot from Warnado toward the derelict Airlandis, partially submerged in the Warp Winds.  Dread Wing had no intention of surrendering the capital of his new empire to the accursed winds and scavengers of Old Earth.  No, the prize was his for the taking, and he would have it no matter the cost.

                Winches groaned as the slaves tightened up the slack on the lines, and slowly, ever so slowly the golden dome broke through and emerged from the clouds.  Dread Wing growled at the damage evident on some of the towers surrounding the central dome.  Several were missing entirely, having been snapped off by the brutal force of the winds.

                "Fryte!" Dread Wing yelled, as his lieutenant came scuttling into view.  "Supervise the remainder of this exercise, and kill any of the slaves who falter.  As soon as the city is out of the Warp Winds, alert me immediately - I must be the first to set foot in my new seat of power."

                Fryte bowed and groveled, practically kissing Dread Wing's boots.  He was trying any way to curry favor with the Lord of Warnado after somehow managing to let _all_  of the Dragon Flyz slip through his scaly fingers.  Dread Wing was also furious that somehow Gangryn had managed to not only get himself killed, but also be the likely cause of the city's fall into the Warp Winds.  But what angered Dread Wing most was the fact that nobody under his command understood technology the way Gangryn had.  The spindly inventor had been the source of many of Dread Wing's greatest schemes, and Dread knew it would be next to impossible to replace him.  And by that same token, repairing the city to its glorious grandeur could prove too great a challenge.

                Dread Wing strode back through the hallways of Warnado toward his throne room.  He needed to think.  Without Airlandis ready for habitation, he would have to stave off Vidak and Kreigo's claims for much longer.  What he needed was a new target to turn their energy toward.  The humans had escaped in their steel wings for now, but to where?  It was necessary that he find out.  Curse Nocturna for abandoning him!  This would have been a perfect mission for the wily, blue-skinned female.  It would require a delicate hand and no small amount of cunning - something he knew Fryte lacked in abundance.  No, he could not send his last lieutenant on this quest.

                Dread Wing sat in his great amber throne, contemplating the question for a very long time.  His reverie was interrupted, however, when the call came through from Fryte.  "We have pulled up the city, my lord!" the mutant crowed, obviously pleased with himself.

                Putting aside his concerns, Dread Wing grinned.  "Blackheart and I shall be there momentarily, Fryte.  Ready your dragon and a selection of other warriors."  Dread Wing spread his wings and took off, calling mentally to Blackheart.  They met in the air above Warnado, the great red dragon blowing a jet of flame from his mouth to greet his master.  Dread Wing alighted on the saddle, scratching the beast's neck in a gesture of true affection.  "Onward, Blackheart!" Dread crowed.  "Today we claim our birthright!"

*****

                Orak groaned as he woke up.  His head was pounding, his entire existence felt made of nothing but pain, and the master technician _really_ wished he had a glass of scotch right then and there.

                Picking himself up and brushing the dust from his jacket, Orak peered down the empty access tube he had been in.  The last thing he remembered, he had gotten his crew safely to their escape vehicles before turning back toward the reactor chamber.  By dragondom, he wasn’t going to let Gangryn get ahold of that technology without a fight!

                Except that Orak had never gotten his chance.  The city had experienced the worst airquake Orak had ever felt, and then world had turned end over end.  Orak knew what that meant: at least some of the turbines had gone out during the battle, pitching the city about like a kite in the wind.  But Orak could still feel the gentle hum of the turbines beneath his feet, which meat at least _some_ of them were still operational.

                Clasping his aching head, Orak started back on his way toward his precious amber reactors.  Debris littered the maintenance access tube, slowing Orak’s progress.  When he finally reached the reactor room, the master technician employed a few of the more colorful expletives in his vocabulary.

                The main reactors were fried.  Literally, it looked like an explosion had gone off right next to them.  Cursing and muttering to himself, Orak took a closer look at the half-melted plasteel that used to be his reactor.  _Well, at least the secondary reactors managed to avoid the feedback loop and were able to stay online.  Probably the only reason we’re not sitting in some lava pool right now._

Orak opened a vox channel to Skywatch.  “We’ve got a problem down here,” he grumbled into the mic.  Except that his transmission was met with nothing but static.  “Damn airheads,” he muttered.  “I know there’s a battle going on, but you think they _might_ like to know if we’ll be able to stay aloft.  Computer,” he said, addressing the verbal command protocol built into Airlandis’ systems, “route me through to whatever is the new command center.  Priority Alpha.”

                The computer attempted all possible locations including the Council Chamber and Dragonator Command, but there didn’t appear to be anyone at those locations.  Orak was beginning to get worried.  “Computer…are there any life signs aboard Airlandis other than me?” Orak asked.

                “Affirmative,” the eloquent voice of the computer replied.  “One life sign aboard the city, very faint.”

                Well, it looked like Orak was one soul away from being all alone on an abandoned ship.  “Computer, locate the life sign and give me directions.”  When Orak had finally found a data pad that wasn’t destined for the scrap heap, he downloaded the directions and grabbed the emergency med kit from underneath his desk, glad that Miriam had convinced him to keep one on hand ages ago.

                As he walked the golden halls of Airlandis, Orak was left speechless at the damage.  The smooth golden walls were cracked, and debris littered the floor.  Sometimes he had to take alternate routes because hallways were completely blocked. 

                Finally, after passing through the dome (which looked damn strange sans biospheres floating around in there), Orak pulled open the door to the dragon dock.  The life sign was somewhere in here.

                “Anybody here?” Orak called out.  He heard a faint moan from one of the pens, and ran toward it.  What he found there was heartbreaking.  “Oh, kid,” he murmured.

                Apex was a mess, her body covered in bruises and lacerations, her leg twisted at an odd angle.  Blood flecked her lips, and her breathing was shallow and labored.  “Can you hear me, Apex?” Orak asked, gently squeezing her shoulder.

                Her eyes fluttered open.  “O…rak,” she whispered.  “S…sorry about your reactor,” she said with a cough, a trickle of blood running down the side of her mouth.

                “Don’t you worry about that, kid,” Orak replied.  He pulled out the contents of the med kit, and grabbed the analgesic, and used the jet-injector to deliver a dose.  “We’ve got to get you to a medical capsule.”  He was no physician, but Orak knew that if Apex didn’t get help, and soon, he would lose her. 

                Apex slowly raised her arm, and pointed at a storage room.  “One…in there…for emergencies…”

                Orak nodded.  He ran over to the storage room and pressed the open button, only to be greeted with a dead locking mechanism.  Cursing, Orak tore the panel off the wall and wired the door open.  Inside, along with tons of overturned supply containers, sat a medical capsule.  Orak ran a quick systems diagnostic, breathing a sigh of relief that it had a self-contained power unit that didn’t depend on getting power from the main generators.

                Getting back to Apex, he gingerly loaded her onto a hovercart for the short trip to the capsule.  Once she got there, he helped Apex inside.  “You’ll be all right, kiddo,” Orak said, before closing the glass and allowing the sterilization protocols to take over.  The glass frosted over, obscuring Apex’s form inside.

                “Oh, I wouldn’t make promises you are unable to keep, old man,” Orak heard a deadly voice say from behind him.  Turning around, the master technician found a plasma cannon pointed right at his face.  And the hand that held the weapon belonged to none other than Dread Wing standing at the head of a squadron of Dark Dramen.

                “What do you want, monster?” Orak spat, crossing his arms.

                Dread Wing raised a scaly eye ridge in apparent interest.  “Is that any way to refer to the new Lord of Airlandis?”

                Orak barked a laugh, past the point of caring.  “Lord of a dead city?  Have fun with that.”

                Dread Wing growled.  “Oh, I intend to have much more than fun – I intend to use this city to wipe out the last humans and establish my new empire.  And you are going to help me.”

                “Like hell I’d help you, Dread!” Orak yelled, pushing a finger into the mutant demon’s chest.  “Get your flunky Gangryn to do your dirty work!”

                Dread Wing heaved a sigh before removing Orak’s digit.  “Gangryn unfortunately vaporized himself along with your reactor.  Therefore I shall make you an offer, old man.  You repair the amber reactors, and I shall not immediately kill your friend currently in the capsule.”  For emphasis, Dread Wing shot the ground next to Orak, leaving a smoking, melted hole in the plasteel.

                Orak realized that Dread Wing didn’t know that it was Apex inside.  If he did, not even repairing the reactors would compare to his desire to off one of his greatest enemies.  Orak would have to buy time until the capsule had healed Apex sufficiently for them to escape together.  Sighing at being put into this position, Orak looked up at Dread Wing’s triumphant face.  “All right monster, but I swear if you or any of your flunkies so much as touch that capsule, I’ll activate the self-destruct and blow us all to hell.”

                Orak got perverse pleasure from the irritated look that crossed Dread Wing’s face.

*****

                Summit slammed his fist on the table, uncaring that he was visibly upset and furious with the Council.  “My family doesn’t fall in the column of ‘acceptable losses.’  If not for everything they did, we wouldn’t be having this discussion!” he spat at the Council member who had criticized his plan to lead a search party to find Aaron, Z’neth, Peak, Nora, Nocturna, Cifex, Apex, and Orak.

                “Look at this logically, Summit,” Joshua interjected, trying to lower the tone this discussion had bred.  “All our scouts report that the Skywatch Tower has been completely blown away.  The chance that they survived is almost infinitesimal.” 

                Iranda spoke up, her voice shaking.  “Is that what you said after I disappeared too, Joshua?  Am I not living proof to never give up looking?”

Joshua sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “I know that your family has done many great services to this community, but we simply do not have the resources to commit right now.  Our society – nay, all of humanity – lies on the precipice of collapse at this very moment.”

As the Council members nodded one after another around the table, Summit gave them a dark look.  “If that is how you feel, fine,” Summit said.  “But as the ranking Dragonator Commander, in light of recent events I do not share my father’s esteemed opinion of this Council, and am therefore doing what should have been done from the beginning of this conflict – declaring martial command of the dragonators.  As of this moment, we are no longer under the purview of the Council.”

Gasps went around the room.  “You can’t be serious!” one of the Council members said.  “We’ll see you court-martialed for this!” another sputtered.

“Think carefully on this action, Summit,” Joshua warned, giving him a steely look.  “I know we have had our… _differences_ in the past, but think what Z’neth would do.  If this motion goes through, when ultimate command of the dragonators returns to the Council, you will be stripped of your wings for good.”

Summit simply gave Joshua a wicked grin and shrugged.  “I’m sure that neither my brother nor my father would leave me on Old Earth to die, if that’s what you mean, Joshua.  Now is not the time to play politics.”

“And the leaders of Dragonator Two and Three?” a Council member asked.  “What have Zarkan and Olin to say on this subject?”

“They are unaware.  Any punitive measures you wish to inflict will be reserved solely for me,” Summit answered.  “Olin will be designated as the Dragonator Corps representation on the Council until such a time as father is recovered.”

“And if you are declaring yourselves a separate entity, why should any of you sit on this Council?” Joshua asked.

“Because, for once, give the dragonators the respect they deserve,” Summit shot back.  “We took plenty of losses during the battle before you sounded the D4 Alert.  Had you heeded our advice and evacuated the city immediately, many more lives would have been spared.  Chew on that for a while.”

With a turn of his heel, Summit strode from the room.  He felt bad leaving his mother there as representative of the University, but Summit knew if he stayed in that room another moment he was liable to punch someone in the face.

*****

                Nora saw shapes, images, colors fluttering before her eyes.  She heard voices, indistinct and ethereal, that seemed to bounce around her skull.  Her whole being seemed to be suffused with warmth that came from everywhere and nowhere.  And Nora felt incredibly at peace, more so than she had ever felt in her whole lifetime.

                _Child, it is time to awaken.  Your companions are most concerned about you,_ one of the voices in her head said.  Each word was punctuated by pulses of light.

                With regret, Nora pulled herself from the peaceful space at the center of her mind, and back to the waking world.  Her eyes opened with difficulty, not easily adjusting to the light in the room.  When her eyes had finally focused, Nora saw she was in a simple white room.  Sunlight filtered in through a window. 

                In an instant, the terrifying drop through the Warp Winds came back to her.  The Skywatch tower had plunged through the squalls and gales, almost certainly carrying them to their deaths.  There was no way out of their cylindrical tomb.  Nora remembered clasping Peak’s hand before a particularly violet gust had knocked her against a console, and everything had gone black.

                Was she back on Airlandis?  Nora didn’t remember any rooms like this in the infirmary (and she had been there enough times to become quite familiar with it).  A light knock sounded at the door before it cracked open and a man Nora didn’t recognize stepped through.

                He was tall, with short grey hair that was going white.  He wore a simple white robe and looked to be in excellent health for a man his age aside from the gnarled wooden cane he used to support his right leg.

                “Who are you?  Where am I?” Nora asked.  “Where are my companions?”

                Laughter reverberated in her mind.  _So many questions so quickly after waking!  One at a time, child!  When you are as aged as I, you will learn the value of slowing down, I think_.

                “You…you’re telepathic?” Nora asked.

                The old man gestured to the bed with his cane, and Nora scooted over, fairly certain she could outrun him if anything went wrong.  He settled himself on the edge of the bed before giving her a wry smile.

                _I am a mind-speaker like all our people.  And though you are human, you are not?_ He seemed genuinely surprised by this.

                Nora shook her head.  “No, it is a rare gift where I come from,” Nora admitted, somehow feeling she could trust this man.  “But please, tell me what’s going on,” she pleaded.

                _My name is Beltran.  You and five others descended from the sky in a flaming sword, and would have surely perished had we not suspended it and gotten you all out._

                Nora was shocked.  “Your people stopped the tower from free fall?  How did you accomplish that?”

                Beltran smiled and tapped the side of his head.  _We are not only mind-speakers, but mind-movers as well._

                Telepathic _and_ telekinetic, then.  With enough power to stop a piece of flaming wreckage spit out by the Warp Winds.  Whoever these people were, Nora was absolutely certain she didn’t want to get on their bad side.  “Are my companions safe as well?” she asked, worried about them.

                _Oh yes.  We thought for certain the metal man was dead at first – no heartbeat!_ Beltran added with a chuckle.  _And the blue woman was most unreceptive to our help.  She stood guard over you all like a mother dragon!_

                Nora let out a sigh of relief.  “Final question, then – where are we?”

                _Let me show you, child._ Beltran took her by the hand and led her from the room, his cane tapping lightly against the floor.  They passed several others in white robes as they walked down the hallway, but Nora was struck by how silent everything was.

                “Does no one speak here?” Nora asked, hoping she wasn’t being rude.

                Beltran simply looked at her.  _When you can speak mind to mind, heart to heart, words somehow seem like a poor substitute._   The hallway they were strolling ended in an open, sun-filled doorway.  Beltran motioned, and Nora stepped through.  What she saw took her breath away.

                They were in a deep valley with steep cliffs on every side.  The air was cool and sharp, but the most amazing thing to Nora was the green grass that seemed to carpet the whole valley.  At the far end, a waterfall cascaded down the side of one of the cliffs, forming a large pool that fed a stream.  Tears pricked the corner of her eyes as Nora wandered out on the balcony to see more clearly.  Small buildings dotted the valley, and from somewhere Nora could hear the laughter of children and the barking of a dog.

                “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she said, unwilling to turn away from the magnificent sight, though tears began streaming down her face.  After all this time, they had found a pocket of humanity still flourishing.  “How is this possible?  Have humans truly made a life for themselves here on Old Earth?”

                Beltran stood beside her and offered a handkerchief for Nora to dry her eyes.  When she had composed herself, Nora looked down at him in wonder.

                _In truth, child, I am curious if humans have been living among the clouds for a long time_.  Beltran looked at Nora, a sheepish look crossing his face.  _Forgive me, but your dreams of the golden city and dragons were quite vivid, Nora._

At that instant, Nora heard the sound of exo-wings, and looked up to see Peak flying toward her, his flaxen hair streaming behind him.  “Nora, you’re awake!” he cried, landing next to her and sweeping Nora into a deep kiss.  “I was so worried about you,” he said, holding her close.

                Soon, they were joined by Z’neth, Nocturna, Aaron, and Cifex.  With a start, Nora realized that Aaron was _walking_ again.  “Aaron…how is this possible?” she asked her commander. 

                “Psychic healing, I think,” Aaron answered.  “I’m still adjusting to it myself – you can imagine my surprise at waking up and feeling my legs for the first time in a decade.”

                Beltran motioned for food to be brought onto the veranda, and soon Nora was eating delicious warm bread, cheese, and fruit.  “Is this some kind of dream?  Are we dead?” she asked.

                Z’neth laughed outright, a sight Nora had never seen before.  “No, Nora, we’re not dead, and this isn’t a dream.  At least I very much hope it isn’t.  What I do think is that we’ve stumbled upon the Oasis mentioned by Captain Bristol in the final logs from the Space Station Galileo.  Possibly humanity’s last outpost on the surface of Old Earth.”


	30. Homeland Part Five: Oasis

Homeland Part Five: Oasis

                Dram was miserable in the humid, stifling rain that drove against the search party as they flew over Old Earth.  The sizzling lava pits mirrored his frustration at everything right now – the Council for abandoning the search, not knowing what had become of his family, and his own damn inability to smell them in this weather.

                Summit’s group had found the wrecked remains of the Skywatch tower almost a week ago.  Everyone had feared the worst, but there were no bodies inside.  Which left two options – the bodies had been snatched by scavengers, or they were alive and in hiding.

                Dram definitely preferred to believe the second option.

                “Much good my superior sense of smell does on a day like today,” Dram muttered.  He could smell a human several miles away – tracking his family’s scent from the wreckage should have been a simple matter.  Except that there were no scent trails leading away from the tower.  It was as though his family had simply vanished.  Dram had the sickening thought that they might have been pulled out into the Warp Winds, but Summit had pointed out that the windows of the tower were only broken on the crash side, meaning they hadn’t broken during the transit.

                For the thousandth time, Dram wished Apex was with them.  Her telepathic abilities would have been a great help at this time.  Still, the missing dragonators’ dragons were helping them search for their riders.  Dram didn’t have to be psychic to know the dragons were deeply distressed at their partners’ disappearance.  Dramen were kin to the flying mounts after all.

Opening a vox channel to the _Aristotle_ , Dram reported in.  “There is no sign of them in this sector, Summit.  We are returning to the ship for the night.”

                “Acknowledged, Dram,” Summit said, his disappointed face appearing on the Vox Box.

                “Do not give up hope yet, my brother,” Dram replied, despite his own feelings.  He knew that Summit needed him to be strong now most of all.  “You of all people know how resourceful Z’neth and the others are.  I have every confidence they are alive.”

Summit simply nodded before switching off the Vox Box.  Dram sighed, before signaling his team to head back to the ship for a few hours of sleep before beginning the search all over in a new sector tomorrow.  To the west, a range of mountains jutted up into the Warp Winds.  The sun slowly sank behind them.

Dram somehow felt that the sun was setting on their time for finding the others alive as well.

*****

                Peak swore as his Vox Box blew up in a shower of sparks.  “Why can’t I boost the signal and get a message out of this place!” he grumbled before chucking the ruined communicator to the ground.

His father Aaron walked over from his own workbench and picked up the Vox Box.  Peak still found it so strange to see his father actually walking instead of using the anti-grav belt and staff to move around.  "It's probably some combination of the minerals in the rock and the Warp Winds causing interference.  There's a reason this place hasn't been discovered in a few hundred years, after all."

                "I should be out with Z'neth, Nocturna, and Nora looking for the pathway out of the valley," Peak said with a pout.  "You know I'm no good with electronics; not like Summit anyway."

                Aaron placed a hand on Peak's shoulder.  "Maybe not, but your eyes are the sharpest of us all, and Cifex and I could really use them for a few final adjustments."

                Peak wandered over to where his father and Cifex had constructed a small array using parts from their Vox Boxes and some parts that Beltran had generously given them.  The people of the valley were fairly technologically advanced despite their isolation - something that Aaron attributed to Captain Elias Bristol crashing there twenty-five years after the Cataclysm.  Cifex also thought a lot of the tech felt like natural outgrowths of his era instead of the amber-based systems developed by the Builders who had constructed Airlandis.

                Peak found he didn’t much care unless it meant getting out of here and getting home.  Or what was left of it anyway.  Was Airlandis even still afloat?  Peak was going crazy wondering what had happened to the rest of his family.

                Cifex started to make adjustments to the array with Peak while Aaron excused himself to speak with Beltran.  Despite the android saving his mother and making his sister incredibly happy, Peak still had trouble warming up to Cifex.  For his part, Cifex had given Peak space and time to come around.  Still…it was just so _unnatural_.  Cifex was a machine – a complex, sentient machine, granted – but Peak had a hard time thinking of him differently than a Vox Box.

                “Take a look at the screen while I make these final adjustments,” Cifex asked, pulling Peak out of his reverie. 

                “Oh, uh, sure,” Peak replied with a nod.  Cifex indicated a few places on the screen that Peak needed to watch before digging into the array’s guts of wires.  A few minutes passed in silence.

                “That ought to do the trick.  How do the power levels look?” Cifex asked.

                “Everything looks stable,” Peak replied.  “Can I send a signal out now?”

                Cifex shook his head.  “Your father is concerned about revealing the valley’s location to any mutant forces in the area by accident.  We’ve agreed not to proceed without Beltran’s approval.”

                Peak sighed.  “I guess I can understand that…considering what happened to the last possible settlement sites we found.  Dread and his cronies have a way of ruining everything good,” Peak added with a dark laugh.

                Cifex laid a hand on Peak’s arm, causing him to stiffen.  “Don’t worry, Peak.  I’m sure Z’neth and the others will find a way out of here.”

                Peak brushed it off.  “Who says I’m worried?  We’ve gotten out of tighter situations before – I’m just bored at having to wait so long!”

*****

                Nocturna brandished her scanning equipment and flew close to the canopy of clouds that had blown overtop the valley.  They swirled and churned, sending gusts of wind downward and forcing her to flap her wings to stay aloft. But the slightly convex stone walls seemed to prevent the clouds from ever fully entering the Oasis.  “These are definitely Warp Winds, Z’neth,” she said over her Vox Box.  “They have the correct formations and patterns.”

                “Acknowledged,” Z’neth replied from the hilltop he and Nora had set up a base camp on.  “Return to camp and upload your readings.”  They had been searching for a way out of the valley for several days now, though nothing seemed to be opening up.  The people who lived here could not understand their group’s desire to leave, when this was considered a paradise.

                Frankly, Nocturna couldn’t stand another minute with these freaky mind-readers, and had fairly jumped at the chance to look for a way out.  “See you soon,” she replied.

                Looking down at the valley below, Nocturna felt even more alienated here than she ever had in Airlandis.  The entire population was human – no mutants, or even dramen.  She felt like the people here had been cut off from reality for a little too long.  Still, she could understand Z’neth and his family being over the moon at finding a legitimate human settlement still on Old Earth.  (And no, the midget F.I.S.T. Fighters or whatever they called themselves didn’t count in Nocturna’s ledger as legitimate humans.  She was sure there were some interesting mutations hiding in their genetic code.)

                Still, the place certainly was…beautiful.  Noctura gagged at even thinking the word, but so much had changed for her since coming to Airlandis.  For perhaps the first time in her miserable life, she felt...well, those feelings would certainly not amount to anything.  There wasn't a chance in hell that he was interested in her _that way_ , though he obviously enjoyed their verbal sparring.

                Z'neth and Nora came into view as Nocturna rounded a tall promontory, and her sharp eyes caught a smile cross Z'neth's normally stoic face.  She alighted with all her grace, and sauntered past the dragonators to input her data chip.  Once the portable console had finished processing, it projected a holographic representation of the valley, including the patterns of the Warp Winds.

                Z'neth motioned them to gather around.  "We have to assume the valley has no natural exits, or if there are, they have long since been closed off."

                "So how do you explain them getting us out of the tower and here then?" Nora asked.

                "Those Warp Winds only occasionally cover this Oasis," Nocturna replied.  "And with the mental abilities the people here have, it would be simple to redirect the flow of the winds, or even fly out of the valley on their own."

                Z'neth nodded.  "Those were my thoughts.  Beltran healed Father - it wouldn't surprise me at all that they could create a break in the Warp Winds."

                "So what you're really saying is that they're our only way out?" Nocturna spat.  "If that's true and they haven't told us!..." she trailed off.  "We should just send a signal out and to hell with what they want!"  Nocturna crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at Z’neth and Nora.

                Z'neth held up a hand.  "Cool down, Lady Blue - we're not going to jump to any conclusions here.  These people's extreme privacy is what has kept them alive for hundreds of years.  I can't condone risking that for our own benefit."

                "But you'll condone us moldering away here with them?" Nocturna shot back.

                “Not at all,” Nora interjected.  “While you were taking more readings, we’ve been cooking up a few ideas here.  Your data set confirmed that the periodic breaks in the Warp Wind cover appear to follow a fairly precise timing pattern.  Every four or six hours the Warp Winds part – the trick is it’s never for the same amount of time.  It could be an hour, but it could be for only a few minutes.”

                “And we’ve got at least two openings that are coming up tonight,” Z’neth said with a grin.

                “Thank the Mistress of the Endless Night!” Nocturna sighed, grateful that she wouldn’t be trapped here forever.

                “I wouldn’t get your hopes up too high,” Nora cautioned.  “Even if we can get out of the valley, our chances of making it back to Alayas or Airlandis without dragons is pretty slim.  There’s no way our exo-wings would last the amount of time necessary for a full trip back, even if we knew exactly where we were.”

                “Don’t forget that my wings don’t require power packs, kids,” Noctura said.  “I could fly to Alayas for aid and reinforcements.”

                Z’neth shook his head.  “No, it’s too risky.  There are a thousand things that could go wrong with a single dragonator making their way through hostile terrain.  No, I want to at least check in with Father about the array he’s constructing before we take such a drastic measure.”  He gave Nocturna a sharp looking.  “Can I count on you to follow these orders and not take off in the middle of the night?”

                Nocturna waved a hand in dismissal.  “Fine,” she said with a groan.  “But we’d better make a decision soon.  My wings are starting to itch for freedom.”

*****

                Thank the Builders he was finally alone!  Orak looked around the corner again for any signs of his cragface captors, breathing a sigh of relief when he was assured there were none around.  The beasts had practically had him working day and night to get Airlandis fully operational again, and most often the motivation had come at gunpoint.  Orak hated Dread Wing, but he had more than himself to think of.  Aside from the fact that barbecue had never been his preferred method of execution.

It had been a week since Dread Wing had first imprisoned him and Apex here, though Orak was fairly certain Dread still didn’t know who was in the medical capsule.  The master technician crept to the capsule that contained Apex, and activated the locked control sequence.  Looking over the numbers and body graph display, Orak could see that the healing was progressing nicely.  Apex would be able to leave the capsule in twenty-four hours, and fully healed within forty-eight.  Orak muttered a curse under his breath.  He wasn’t sure that was enough time to sabotage the rebuilt reactor.  He had already had a hell of a time trying to hide his special modifications from the irritating Dark Dramen.

Orak had looked all over the city – under the guise of ‘looking for parts’ – trying to find a working Strato-Glider.  Part of him was proud all the launch mechanisms his rivetheads kept up had worked perfectly and catapulted the fleet of ships away.  Another part of him was irritated beyond belief that not one of them had failed.  Which left him with Exo-Wings as his only method of escape.

At least he knew his lunch would be escaping, at any rate.  Orak hated the dragonator wings, and had weaseled his way out of emergency courses in their use for years.  He had designed the latest models, after all.  The truth was he was terrified of flying without a large plasteel hull between him and the sky.  But he would do it for Apex.  The kid didn’t deserve to be tripped up by his fears.

Satisfied that Apex’s healing was progressing along nicely, Orak locked the medical capsule and picked up his tool kit.  Just in time, too, as Fryte’s ugly face rounded the corner and the mutant freak growled at him to get back to work.  _Oh, I’ll be getting back to work, all right,_ Orak mentally sneered.  _I’ll get right back on my plan to send you all to hell_.

*****

                Gangryn felt nothing.  Not his arms, not the deck beneath his feet.  He was without physical form.  _Have I transcended the physical plane?_ He wondered.

                But he could see.  All around him, Dramen slave engineers were being directed by the human Orak to get the amber reactor back into working order.  Gangryn’s memories returned in a sudden rush – the fight with Apex, and his death by vaporization.  Except, curiously, he had not died.  Some reaction between the Brain Slave armor and the amber reactor energy had thrown him into this twilight existence.

                Gangyn felt a tug at his essence as a Dark Dramen overseer walked right through him.  That was worth investigating.  Willing himself to follow the beast, Gangryn floated in his path again.  The reaction was the same.  It almost felt as if the physical body had tried to grab hold of his spirit.  Gangryn willed his mind toward the Dark Dramen a third time, and this time he didn’t disavow the connection.  Instead, he grabbed hold and pulled himself inside.

                The Dark Dramen’s mind was a simple place, as to be expected of such a low-intelligence creature.  Gangryn had no trouble displacing its mind with his own.

                Sights, smells, sounds.  All came rushing toward him, and Gangryn drank them in.  Beneath everything, he could feel strength and physical power coursing through this body.  It was a unique and novel feeling for the genius mind that had once been trapped in a small, weak body.

                But now he was unstoppable.  He didn’t have to beat Dread Wing – he could _be_ Dread Wing.

*****

                _You ask me to expose my people to potential harm,_  Beltran said, giving Aaron a grave look across the low table.  Tea had been set out by one of Beltran's acolytes, and Aaron appreciatively sipped the beverage, enjoying the roasted flavor. 

                Setting the cup down, he gave the psychic master a hard look.  Ever since the psychic healing, Aaron's very limited mental abilities had been greatly increased.  It still felt foreign, and Aaron was uncomfortable yet with the new powers.  He tentatively responded, _I only ask that you let us send a signal to our people on Mount Alayas.  They no doubt are worried and searching for us.  We will use a scrambled frequency that should leave the transmission source undetectable_.

                Beltran sighed.   _You rely too much on your technology, my friend.  Stay here and learn the pathways of the mind with me.  Know inner peace for the first time in many years._

                Aaron simply shook his head.   _Thank you for the offer, Beltran, but peace shall elude me until I am reunited with the rest of my family.  Perhaps someday my daughter and I can train with you, however._

                Beltran stood up slowly, using his walking stick to maintain his balance.   _Since your course appears set, I will not stand in your way.  Please be careful._ He clasped arms with Aaron.  _We will open the cloud cover for five minutes this evening under the cover of darkness.  You may send your signal then._

_Thank you, Beltran.  Your kindness will not be forgotten._ Aaron nodded before executing a small bow and walking from the room.  Outside of Beltran’s dwelling, Aaron breathed in the pure air of the valley, savoring the natural beauty.  Part of him wished to stay here forever.  This was truly it – this was the paradise they had been searching for in vain for so many years.  It broke his heart to leave, but Aaron knew that there was no other option that would allow him to live with himself.  He would not abandon his family, not when they had been so recently reunited.

                He opened a vox channel to Cifex and Peak.  “Prepare the array – we’re sending the signal tonight.”

*****

                Cifex’s temp gauges read as quite chilly, and for once he was glad for the ability to shut off his temperature receptors.  The others were bundled in heavy cloaks provided by Beltran’s people; Nocturna – so used to warmer climes – complained about the cold.

                “We’ll be done here soon, Nocturna,” Z’neth chided her.

                She rolled her golden eyes.  “Not soon enough for me,” Nocturna muttered in response, wrapping the cloak tightly around her shoulders.

                Cifex, Peak, and Aaron had set up the array at the hilltop base camp that Z’neth and the others had used earlier as they mapped the valley. 

                “We’re five minutes from the opening point,” Nora announced, keeping track of their time on the chronometer.  “Is everything ready to transmit the signal?”

                “As ready as we’ll ever be,” Peak replied from his position seated by Nora.  “I just hope that Alayas still has the emergency channel open.”

                Cifex would frankly be happy to get back to humans who would speak with him.  His neural processors didn’t interface at all with the psychic communication method favored by the people here.  It had been a lonely time indeed; Cifex hadn’t realized how dependent he’d become on Apex and Iranda’s presence. 

Z’neth and Aaron had been warming up to him with time, and he and Nocturna had even bonded somewhat over their unique positions as outsiders.  But Peak seemingly wouldn’t budge on his mistrust of Cifex.  Oh, he knew it shouldn’t bother him – that bringing everyone around to the decidedly different relationship between him and Apex would take time – but Cifex had to admit it still stung to have one of Apex’s own brothers remain cool toward him.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Cifex began working the controls for the communication array.  The clouds seemed to peel back from above them, and cool, clean air blew down into the valley.  The stars were bright and clear.  “Sending transmission on all known encrypted emergency channels,” Cifex reported. 

                “Let’s hope someone’s still out there who can hear us,” Nocturna said quietly, pulling her cloak tighter.

*****

                Amod was beginning to doze off as he sat at the main controls of the _Aristotle_.  Night had fallen, and they had docked the ship in a small cave in the mountain range.  It was cramped, but at least they were protected and hidden enough to get some good sleep tonight.  Still, Amod had volunteered to man the control board for the first quarter of the night, hoping that he could at least get a few hours of sleep afterward.

                Sleep was not in his cards for tonight, though.  The control board came to life, lights flashing and warning signals blaring.  Thinking they might be under attack, Amod set the ship-wide wake-up alarms and began pinpointing the source of the disturbance.

                “What’s going on?” Zarkan asked as he ran into the room in nothing but his boxers.

                Amod grinned at the sight of him before turning back to the control board.  “Not sure yet.  The computer started going crazy a minute ago – could be an attack.”

                Zarkan grabbed a seat at the co-pilot’s chair and began working as well.  “Looks like it’s…a signal.”  Dram and Summit filtered into the cockpit, dressed and ready for battle if necessary.

                “It’s coming through on one of the old encrypted frequencies,” Amod replied.  “I’ll try to decode it.”

                “Hold up,” Zarkan replied.  “We changed all the encryption codes once we moved to Alayas – it could be a trap.”

                “Except Z’neth and my father wouldn’t know the new codes,” Summit said, barely audible.  “Amod, decode the message!”

                “On it,” Amod replied, his fingers flying over the control board.  Several tense, silent minutes passed as he worked on the message.  “It appears to be an audio only message, Summit.  I’m playing,” he said, pressing a final keystroke.

                Though crackling and hard to make out, the voice brought all of them the hope that Amod knew he had been beginning to lose.  “To any dragonators or citizens of Airlandis, this is Z’neth.  I repeat, this is Z’neth.  We are in hiding, but do not know where.  Most of our equipment has been destroyed.  This message carries an encoded tracer that should lead you back to the source.  Please locate us as soon as possible.”

                “Amod!” Summit cried.  “Can you…”

                “Already on it, chief,” Amod replied, his fingers once again dancing over the control board at lightning speed.  “There!” he yelped.

                The holo-projector displayed the _Aristotle_ ’s current location in relation to the source of the signal. 

                “They are inside this very mountain range!” Dram said.  It was true – though the signal came from much farther up and under cover of the Warp Winds.

                “Wait,” Zarkan interjected.  “You mean to tell me they’ve been surviving inside the Warp Winds all this time?  That’s impossible!”

                Amod shook his head.  “Not if they found a cave or tunnel that could shield them.”

                “But what about food and water?  I still say this smells like a trap,” Zarkan replied.

                “Even if it is, I won’t throw away the only lead we’ve gotten in days,” Summit said.  “Time to get dressed, Zarkan.  We’re going back up above the Warp Winds and see if we can’t drop through directly to their position.”

                “What about Dread Wing’s spies?” Dram asked.

                “We’ll send the dragons on ahead through a further Wind Pit to draw attention away from us.  Might be time to use the holo-riders Orak developed as well,” Summit said.  “They could be wounded, so I want to get in and out as quickly as possible.  We don’t need to get bogged down in a firefight with Dread’s forces.”

                Amod nodded.  Titan wouldn’t want to split up, but Amod knew there was no choice if they had any hope of luring Dread Wing’s patrols away.  Amod sent a silent prayer up that his friends were alive, hoping it would come true.

*****

                Z'neth sighed as the cloud cover poured back in overtop the valley.  "That's it, folks.  Let's hope there was someone friendly out there to receive the signal."  

                As the rest of the group packed up the equipment, Nocturna placed a hand lightly on his arm.  "Would you mind if we stayed up here a little longer?"

                Z'neth smirked.  "I thought you hated the cold?"

                Nocturna punched him playfully on the arm.  "Very funny.  No, I have something I must speak with you about."  Her expression turned serious.

                Trying to keep things light, Z'neth replied, "As long as we're not having another discussion about you flying out of here on a suicide rescue mission."  In truth, he had been terrified of Nocturna leaving them and striking back out on her own.

                "I promised I'll not fly off," Nocturna replied, before moving off to help Cifex load up some of the more delicate components.  Within half an hour, Z'neth and Nocturna bid good night to the rest of their party.  Z'neth noticed Peak and Nora clasping hands, and couldn't help but smile to himself.  Those two were so different - oil and water if ever there was.  And yet somehow they worked; Peak had brought Nora out of her shell, while Nora had tempered some of Peak’s wildness.

                Would there ever be hope for another unlikely duo?  Z’neth knew there had always been something of a mutual attraction between him and Nocturna, stretching back to the days where they would have been more likely to kill than kiss each other.  It had certainly never been anything more than a battlefield flirtation, though.  Until now.  Z’neth knew that humanity’s future was on the ground; humans would either have to work together with the Dramen and mutant populations or face extinction.  Did his own future include working together with one particular mutant?

                Z’neth sat down on a large flat rock that overlooked the Oasis from their hilltop position.  Darkness had fallen, and lights were winking into existence in dwellings across the valley floor.  He found the sight beautiful.

                Nocturna placed herself next to him on the rock, but left a healthy amount of space between them.  “What did you want to talk about?” he asked, running a hand through his white hair.

She looked at him, golden eyes fairly glowing in the dusk.  “Z’neth, I don’t want to sound ungrateful to you or your family – I’m well aware that you were the only person who believed in me – but I’m not sure I can stay in the humans-only club anymore.”

Z’neth shook his head vehemently.  “Don’t prove them right, Nocturna.  You’re strong, brave, clever.  We need more people like you,” he said.

Nocturna barked a hollow laugh as she drew her legs up to her chest before resting her head on her knees.  “Who is this ‘we,’ Z’neth?”

Z’neth knew he had said something stupid again.  Damn.  Things were so much easier between them before these feelings had popped up.  “What I mean is,” he began before Nocturna cut him off.

“What you mean is that I was seeing things that weren’t there,” she said quietly.

Z’neth placed a hand on her knee.  “Don’t put words in my mouth, Lady Blue.  That’s not what I meant.”  Gods above, why was this so hard?  He could face Dread Wing and death at a moment’s notice, but asking Nocturna…

“In some ways I’m a simple creature, Z’neth,” Nocturna replied.  “I need you to be frank with me.”

Z’neth laughed, breaking the tension.  “You are many things, Lady Blue, but a simple creature is definitely not one of them!”  His gaze grew serious, then.  “Nocturna, there are many things I would like to explore with you should we live through this.”

“I think that was a confession?” she asked, puzzlement written across her face.  “But think about this, Z’neth.  As you rebuild _humanity_ , a _human_ female partner would be best for you.  People will never look on me with anything but fear and mistrust.”

“Since when did you ever start caring what people thought of you?” he asked.

“Since I started wanting more than just friendship with you.”

“Oh.”  Silence hung between them for a minute as a Z’neth processed that idea.  “Nocturna, there is one fatal flaw in your reasoning.  I’m not out to rebuild just humanity.  I want to rebuild all of Old Earth – humans, Dramen, and mutants.  According to Miriam, we’re not all that different genetically.”

“Genetics don’t matter to most people.  Culture matters, appearance matters.  In those, we might as well be from different planets,” Nocturna added bitterly.

                “Who better to lead by example, then?” Z’neth asked.  “Together, we can guide humans and mutants into a new age.”

                Nocturna gave a scoffing laugh.  “For such a hard edged leader, your dreams are rather rosy.”

                Z’neth wouldn’t rise to the bait.  Not now.  “And yet they are my dreams.  What about you, Nocturna?  What do _you_ hope for?”

                “I’d settle for running away with you and finding somewhere to hide out the rest of our lives.  Somewhere my past and your responsibilities can’t find us,” she replied.  “Oh, don’t give me that look!  It’s nothing more than an idle fantasy, after all.  I can never be different than who I am, and you’re far too good a person to throw everything away for the likes of me.”  She gave him a funny look then before barking a short laugh.  “I guess in many ways you wouldn’t even be the person I admire if you did something like that.”

                “Nocturna, you’re a far better person than you give yourself credit for,” Z’neth said.

                She kissed him lightly on the cheek before getting up from the rock.  “Flattery will get you everywhere with me, Z’neth,” Nocturna said.  “Even if you’re lying through your teeth, I appreciate the thought.” 

She unfurled her wings then, and Z’neth was again struck by the blue lady’s grace.  “Wait, Nocturna,” he said, clasping her arm with his hand.  As she turned around, he kissed her full on the lips, savoring the sensation that thrilled along his spine.

When they finally pulled apart, Nocturna raised an eye ridge at him.  “That was…unexpected.”

“Hopefully not unwelcome, though,” Z’neth added.

Nocturna made a show of thinking it over.  “I think that will require a second round for full evaluation,” she said.

Z’neth couldn’t help but smiling.  “Always happy to oblige.”  The kiss was gentler this time, and Nocturna wrapped her arms around his neck, digging her claws through his white hair.

                When she pulled away from him again, her eyes were sad.  “Much as I want this to continue, I don’t want to start down a path that both of us will regret.”

                “Who says we’re going to regret this?” Z’neth said.

                Nocturna rolled her eyes.  “Your family has trouble with the android, Z’neth.  And _he_ brought back your long-lost mother – I don’t have that cache of points.”

                “You just have to give them time, Nocturna.  Let them see how different things are now,” Z’neth countered.

                “Except I don’t know if things really are different.  I may live and work with humans now, but I’m still my bitter, sarcastic, antisocial, opinionated self.  I feel like a lava beast living in an egg nest sometimes!” she said.

                “And without all of that I wouldn’t have anyone to challenge me,” Z’neth replied.  “At least promise me you’ll think about what we talked about.  I believe that together we can be so much more; can make the future so much more.”

Nocturna groaned.  “You’re almost sickeningly good sometimes, you know?”  She turned away from him again, but looked over her shoulder one more time, flashing him a grin.  “I’ll think about it, but I can’t promise any more than that.  Unless of course you want to pay a visit to my chambers and discuss things in a…different way?”

“Nothing wrong with a variety of methods in diplomacy,” Z’neth said, giving a grin of his own.

*****

                Summit kept forcing himself to breathe as he sat behind Amod, who was working the controls of the Aristotle.  They had moved back up through the Warp Winds only after seeing that Dread’s gremwing spies had flown off after the dragons.  The moon was waning tonight, and its light reflected only faintly off the tops of the clouds stretched out for miles below the _Aristotle_.

                “I’ve pinpointed the signal’s source,” Zarkan said, looking over his console.  “We’re right in position overtop it.”

                “My scan shows there isn’t anything there, though.  Just more rock,” Amod replied.  He turned around to look at Summit.  “What do you want us to do?”

                Summit steeled his nerves.  “We’re going in.  I won’t lose this chance.”  He didn’t add that after this, he was out of ideas on what might have happened to them.  Is this what is father had felt like after losing their mother?

                “Then let us hope that it is simply the Winds’ interference, and that we will not crush ourselves on the mountains,” Dram added.

                “Thanks for the cheerful thought, brother,” Summit said, before turning back to Amod.  “Take us down as gently as possible.”

                The _Aristotle_ shuddered as its ventral side came in contact with the Warp Winds, but the plasteel held firm, and soon the ship was submerged in the winds.  Summit always hated this part – the blast shields had covered the windows, plunging the cockpit into darkness only broken by the light of the console screens and buttons.

                “Five hundred feet to the underside,” Zarkan reported.  “Three hundred, one hundred,” he continued to count.

                The _Aristotle_ broke through the bottom layer of the Warp Winds, but it was certainly no mountainside that they found beneath the clouds.

                “By the great dragon,” Dram whispered.  Summit had to agree – stretched out below the ship was a valley full of dwellings. 

                “Quick, Zarkan, get us some magnification,” Summit ordered.  Zarkan nodded, and within moments, they could see in crystal clarity just who was living here: humans.  Possibly thousands of humans.

                “It can’t be,” Amod said, clearly in awe.  “I thought we were the last survivors.”

                “Take us down,” Summit said, “But be ready for immediate takeoff if the natives are unfriendly.”

                Amod nodded, beginning the landing sequence.  As the _Aristotle_ settled on the waving grasses, a large crowd had gathered around the ship, making Summit nervous.  He didn’t see any obvious weapons, but that was no cause for letting your guard down.

                Suddenly the crowd parted and a familiar figure stepped through.  “Father…walking?” Summit asked.  He jumped up from his seat and motioned Dram to come along with him.  Running to the exit, he punched the code to open the doors.  The door had only moved halfway up before Summit was out of the ship and running toward Aaron.

                “Father!” he called out, trying in vain to hold back his tears.  Summit threw his arms around Aaron and hugged him tightly.  “I knew we’d find you, I just knew it,” he whispered, sobs wracking his body.

                Dram had caught up with Summit by that point, and Aaron gathered him up into their hug as well.  Finally pulling away, Summit looked at his father, “Z’neth, Peak, the others?”

                “All fine,” Aaron nodded, with a smile.  “They should be here momentarily.”

                “And all these people?” Dram asked, gesturing to the gathered, silent crowd.

                “These are the telepaths of the Oasis, our rescuers,” Aaron replied.

                “Captain Bristol’s Oasis?” Summit asked, scarcely believing it.

                Aaron smiled, throwing his arms around his two boys.  “The very same, my sons.”  At that moment, Peak, Nora, and Cifex came to greet them, followed shortly by a very underdressed Z’neth and Nocturna.  Summit filed a mental note to ask about _that_ a little later.

                Summit felt unending relief at finding his family alive and well, but now he had to face telling his father and brother that he had defied the Council’s direct orders and taken martial command to find them.  He knew they wouldn’t be happy, and Summit couldn’t stand to bring such an issue up now – not now that they had finally been reunited.

                Looking around, he asked, “Where’s Apex?”

                Cifex gave him a desperate look.  “She’s not with you?”

                “Wait…when was the last time any of us saw her?” Aaron asked.

                “She was intercepting Gangryn making a run on the central reactor,” Cifex answered.

                Summit groaned.  “So she’s a prisoner of Dread Wing…or worse…”

                Cifex shook his head.  “Apex is smart and resourceful.  It’ll take more than Gangryn to hold her down.”

                A grave look crossed Aaron’s face.  “Were there any other Airlandeans who didn’t make it out of the city?  In fact, what happened to the city after our crash into the Warp Winds?” he asked Summit.

                “Our scouts reported that Dread Wing captured the city, and used Warnado to drag it out of the Warp Winds.  Orak was the only other person unaccounted for, and we believe he’s been captured, as Airlandis recently began flying again under its own power,” Summit replied.

                “Then let us hope Orak and Apex have found each other and even now plot Dread Wing’s ruin,” Dram said.

*****

                Hours later, as the Aristotle broke through the cloud barrier covering the Oasis, their scanners didn’t pick up the lone gremwing who spotted the ship.  Chittering to itself, the gruesome creature flew as fast as its wings would carry it back to its master in the floating city.

                Flying through the golden hallways, the gremwing made its way to the Council chamber, its master’s new seat of power. Alighting on Dread Wing’s arm, the gremwing squawked its news in his ear.

                “Well done, oh, well done my child,” Dread Wing crooned, stroking the foul beast’s little head and feeding it a piece of raw meat.  He knew where the gremwing had seen the ship emerge from, and was well acquainted with the mountain range.   And anything that the Dragon Flyz felt such a need to keep hidden there was most assuredly something he had to seize for his own.

                “Rally the Dark Dramen,” he spat at Fryte, who cowered in the corner of the Council chamber.  “We’re going hunting for the secrets of the Dragon Flyz,” Dread Wind said with a grim laugh.

*****

                Iranda’s heart could burst from her chest as the _Aristotle_ landed on Mount Alayas, surrounded by the multicolored hides of the dragons.  She knew – seeing Riptor, Goliath, and Wing Storm alongside Sky Fury, Shockfire, and Thunder – that Summit had against all odds found the rest of their family.

                Iranda had a thousand things she wanted to say, but as soon as the hatch opened and Aaron walked out on his own two feet everything else seemed to fall away.  Running to him, Iranda was swept up into his arms, laughing and crying at the same time.

                “How is this possible?” she asked when Aaron had finally released her from a crushing hug.

                Z’neth placed a hand on her shoulder before grazing her cheek with a kiss.  “It’s a very long and involved story, Mother,” he said with a teasing chuckle.

                “I don’t care if it’s an epic poem – I want to hear it!” she replied, kissing her eldest on the cheek before he moved on to greet the very worried Riptor appropriately.

Moving through the survivors and checking that everyone was okay, Iranda couldn’t stop her delight at seeing a certain android. “Cifex!” she squealed with delight as her friend rushed her and spun Iranda around like she weighed nothing.  “Oh, I’m so glad you’re safe too!”

                “Likewise, Iranda,” he replied, running a hand through his mohawk in what Iranda could have almost swore was an absentminded gesture (could androids have those?).

                After all the acts of welcome had been uttered and hugs and kisses distributed (and worried dragons calmed and reassured that yes, their riders had really returned), Iranda followed her family to the new medical bay, where Miriam and Ilona gave them a good workup.

                “I can’t find anything wrong,” Ilona said, putting her scanning equipment away.  “In fact, they’re almost in better health than our last records indicated.”

                “Double for Aaron, of course,” Miriam cut in, gesturing to where Iranda’s husband was undergoing a full body scan in a medical pod.  “I want to know what could restore that kind of nerve damage.”

                Iranda nodded.  “Of course; they haven’t told me the full story yet, but I believe that’s mostly in order to avoid having to tell the tale a hundred times each.”

                “It’s a tale I want to hear as well,” Joshua’s voice said from behind Iranda.

                Miriam gave the Head Councilman an icy glare.  “Come to apologize to Summit, Joshua?  Otherwise, you can wait outside of my examination room until we’re finished here.”

                “No need to be so hostile, Miriam.  Summit made his choice, and he knew the consequences,” Joshua retorted.  “I’m simply here to make sure everyone rescued checks out as okay.”

                Z’neth looked up from where he and Nocturna were finishing up their exams.  “What’s he taking about, Summit?” he asked, giving his brother a concerned look.

                “Don’t mind that now,” Summit replied, shooting Joshua a dark look.

                Joshua’s face took on an exasperated expression.  “He’ll find out sooner or later.  Might as well be sooner.  Z’neth, in you and Aaron’s absence, Summit declared martial law over the entire Dragonator Corps in order to keep the search up for you despite our extremely limited resources.  He did this with full knowledge that when he either found you or was forced to give up that martial control, he would be stripped of his status as a dragonator.”

                Iranda’s heart broke as she saw the pained expressions cross her husband and Z’neth’s faces.

                “Whatever the case may be, it will not be settled now,” Aaron replied.  “Z’neth and I are resuming command now, and continuing in our search for Apex and Orak.”

                Joshua shook his head.  “By now they’re dead, or worse.”

                “Please, Joshua,” Iranda pleaded.  “One way or the other, we must know.”

                Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Very well.  But at the first sign of information on Apex and Orak’s fates, this disciplinary action will be revisited.”  He nodded to Aaron before spinning on a heel and exiting the infirmary.

                Z’neth clasped his brother’s arm.  “Don’t worry, Summit.  We’ll figure a way out of this somehow.”

                Summit gave his older brother a sad smile.  “I knew what I was getting into, Big Z.  Being a dragonator is important to me, but not more so than having my family safe and accounted for.”

*****

                Gangryn had to digest this newest information.  Flexing his arm, he looked down at the deadly Dramen talons that now graced each of his fingers.  If Dread Wing was really so foolish to take on another human settlement so soon after claiming Airlandis, then perhaps now would be the time to body-jump into Dread Wing’s cranium.  Or simply use the talons to slash his throat.

                Despite their victory, the mutant forces had not escaped the last battle without significant losses.  The dragonators had decimated the current generation of gremwings, and many of the Dark Dramen forces were still licking their wounds.  Dread Wing was a fool for thinking of starting a new crusade so soon.

                Ever since they had discovered the hidden valley beneath the Warp Winds, Dread Wing had ordered Airlandis and Warnado to begin war preparations.  The foundries of Warnado had been churning out plasma cannons and other weapons day and night, while the Dramen engineers had been working under the lash to rebuild Airlandis’ Warp Cannons.  The floating city and the warship had also been moving slowly toward the coordinates – not fast enough to get the Mount Alayas’ humans attention yet, but Gangryn knew it wouldn’t take them long to notice.

                The real question was if the former Airlandeans would be able to muster the strength to fight for their new allies?

*****

                Beltran sipped his afternoon tea, savoring the warm sunshine that poured through the gaps in the clouds, warming his old bones.  It had been several days since Aaron and the others had left, and the aged telepath was surprised to still feel a small sense of loss at their parting.  There were so many things they could have shared with one another.

                Still, if anything Beltran was a patient man.  He knew that their paths would cross sometime in the future.  Beltran considered indulging his curiosity by consulting one of the seers who lived among their community, but ultimately decided the surprise would be more welcome.

                Hours later, as the dual flying fortresses blackened the sky over their valley, Beltran wished he had indulged his curiosity a bit more.  Still, it was not too late.  _Aaron, we need your help!_ Beltran sent a psychic message to his friend, hoping it would reach him in time.

                After his message had been sent, Beltran gathered his acolytes and friends.  Their thoughts and minds mingled, becoming a psychic barrier that stretched over the valley like a shield.  It was not a moment too soon, as energy blasts began raining down on the shield, only to be deflected.  Beltran would try to hold off the invaders for as long as possible until help arrived.  He only hoped they wouldn’t be too late.

*****

                Aaron woke up as if from a nightmare as his mind was overtaken by the fear and anxiety in Beltran’s message.  As if seeing through the aged psychic’s eyes, Aaron could see Airlandis and Warnado hovering ominously overhead before suddenly raining down fiery destruction on the hidden valley.

                “Aaron, my love, what’s wrong?” Iranda asked, turning on a light in their bedroom.

                Aaron cupped his face in his hands.  “It was Beltran, Iranda.  The Oasis is under attack by Dread Wing’s forces!  We have to help them – we can’t abandon the first humans we’ve encountered in centuries.”

                Iranda grasped his face between her hands.  “Nobody said we are, my love.”  She threw the covers off and they went to the wall terminal in their unit, placing a call to Z’neth.

                “We’ve got a problem, son,” Aaron said, outlining what he had seen.

                “I’m going to sound a D3 Alert,” Z’neth replied.  “If Dread is attacking a human settlement, we need to be on alert as well.  And we’ll get half the Corps to suit up as well to see if we can provide some extra aid and firepower to the people of the Valley.”

                “Acknowledged.  I’m going to take down the _Aristotle_ as well with a team of medics to see what aid we can provide,” Aaron added.

                “Well I’m coming with you too!” Iranda cut it.  “No way are we not doing this as a family!”

                “Glad to have you along, Mom,” Z’neth replied.

*****

                Orak gasped as he saw the Valley come into view beneath Airlandis.  To think, there had been a human settlement so close all this time!  So this was Dread’s plan – continue conquering or wiping out any human communities that came to light.  Well, Orak couldn’t abide that.

It was time to put his plan into action.

Moving as silently as possible through the golden hallways and avoiding the routine Dark Dramen patrols, Orak made his way to the storage room that had become Apex's hideout.  Since she had woken up from the medical capsule, Apex had been Orak's eyes and ears throughout the city.  She knew all the secret passages to take in order to spy on the mutants and Dark Dramen, and had been able to slow down the interlopers' work without them ever the wiser.  In fact, they had begun to tell strange, superstitious tales of ghosts and other nonsense haunting their work on the golden city.  Orak was glad for the muties to think their tenure here was cursed.

Orak's eyes darted from side to side making sure there were no unwelcome visitors before slipping inside the room.  Apex had to crawl back into the medical capsule every so often to maintain the illusion that she was still recovering (and preventing Dread Wing from discovering just who was still alive on board his new kingdom).  But this late, Orak found her working by a small light on getting a pair of Wind Jammers working.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"You're the expert.  Why don't you take a look?" she replied, scooting out of the way.

Orak sat down on the floor next to Apex, taking out his magna-goggles and peering through them at the circuitry Apex had been reconfiguring.  Orak gave a grunt.  The work was actually pretty good.  "It'll do, kid," he replied gruffly, pulling his goggles back onto his forehead.   

Apex smirked.  "If I didn't know better, I might actually think you were giving me a compliment."

Orak gave her a wicked grin back.  "Good thing you know better then."  He pulled his magna-goggles back down.  "I'm going to disengage the safeties on these.  That should give you at least thirty percent higher output."

"You mean if it doesn't blow my arm away?" Apex replied.

Orak waved her off.  "You know I'm better than that.  I promise they won't overload."

Apex raised a disbelieving eyebrow.  "And if you could increase the power of the Wind Jammers without worrying about overload, why haven't you done it before?"

"Because I don't want to be responsible for arming every trigger happy dragonator with a revved up cannon," Orak replied.  "My tech is good, but it isn't perfect.  I owe Miriam at least a few less visits to her infirmary."

They worked together in relative quiet for a few more minutes, making the final adjustments.  When Orak was finally satisfied, he had Apex try on the improved Wind Jammers and give a few test shots.  "Well, how do they feel?"

"There's quite a bit more recoil, but I can definitely see the increased power output," Apex replied, looking pointedly at the smoking holes in the plasteel wall.    

"Good.  Should make taking out our ‘new friends’ a lot easier," Orak replied.

Apex looked at him.  "Aren't you going to take one of these?"

Orak shook his head.  "No can do, Apex.  There's no way I can disguise that kind of weaponry while working under our brutish captors."  He dug around in his pocket before producing a sonic welder.  "I've souped up this baby to an unsafe limit.  It'll definitely punch through Dark Dramen armor."

“Well, you seem to have things well in hand,” Apex replied.

                He shrugged.  “Just hope that’ll be good enough.  You know what to do?”

                Apex nodded.  “Affirmative.  I’ve been studying the plans all day.”

                “Good.  We’ll meet up at the dragon dock after we’re finished, then we’re blowing this joint,” Orak said.

*****

                Peak almost couldn’t believe the sight before his eyes – Warnado and Airlandis raining destruction down on the Oasis together.  It was surreal, like something from a nightmare.  Except Peak knew he wasn’t going to wake up and find everything okay this time.

                “Dragonator One,” Aaron said across the Vox Box from his position in the _Aristotle_ , “Are you ready to begin?”

                “Affirmative, Father,” Z’neth replied.  The plan was that Dragonator One would attempt to infiltrate and regain control of Airlandis (while searching for Apex and Orak) while the other dragonators under Zarkan’s command kept Warnado’s forces busy.  Peak wanted to say he felt good about their chances for success, but the truth was he was scared stiff.  Without the city to back them up, what chance did their ragtag group have of carrying out this mission?

                Z'neth gave the signal, and Peak felt Wing Storm's roar reverberate through his bones as the purple dragon shot through the clouds.  The golden dome raced forward toward him, and Peak barely had time to steer Stormy out of the way before a huge blast from one of the new Warp Cannons rushed by him, blowing a hole in the cloud cover.

                "Looks like Dread must have put Orak to work!" Peak yelled to Summit.

                Peak's brother was about to reply, but was interrupted by gremwings pouring out of every orifice in Warnado, screeching battle cries.  Peak cursed as they were followed by battalions of blasted cragface Dark Dramen and mutant warriors.

                Z'neth gave Zarkan another signal, and the dark-skinned dragonator pulled Thunder and the rest of his squadron up and around Dragonator One, obscuring them from view.  Peak caught the red whip of Nora's ponytail as she and Goliath charged after Zarkan, Wind Jammers blazing.  Amod, Dram, and several other squadrons were close behind.

                Peak held his breath.  All too soon, the dragonators met the front lines of Warnado's forces under Fryte's command.  As shots from Wind Jammers and plasma cannons spewed in every direction, Peak prayed silently for Nora and the others’ safety.

                The youngest brother didn’t hold out much hope for his sister and Orak, though.  He vividly remembered the Dark Dream that Dread Wing had put them through; knew the sadistic pleasure the mutant warlord gleaned from others’ pain.  Peak privately thought they would be lucky to find Apex alive at all.

                Z’neth gave another signal; Peak shook off his dark brooding and he and Summit peeled off in opposite directions.  The plan was to take three different routes into the city, then join forces once inside the dome to take on Dread Wing.

                As Stormy dodged another hail of fire from the Warp Cannons though, Peak hoped they would live long enough to regroup.  Stormy flew around the city toward the dragon dock, and Peak was glad to see that though the dock was crawling with Dark Dramen, the blast doors were open.  Well, what was left of the blast doors anyway.  The huge door was a melted, smoking mess, and Peak could hear weapons fire from just inside.

                Maybe reports of his sister’s demise had been greatly exaggerated?

*****

                Apex let loose a loud string of curses as she kicked a mutant warrior in the face.  Things were definitely not going as well as she had hoped.  Still, that was a satisfying crunch as her boot connected with another jaw.

                She and Orak had split up, planting the engineer’s homegrown bombs around the perimeter of the city.  Orak had fitted each of the explosives with a transceiver chip that would allow for remote detonation.  The plan had been to plant the bombs at strategic intervals that would take out the turbines below the city, probably grounding it for good.

                Except that halfway around the city, Apex had gotten waylaid by a troop of mutant warriors.

                “Orak!” she called in through the Vox Box.  “I’m trapped in Sector G!  Met up with some – oof – old friends of ours!”

                “Hang tight, kid – I’m on the way!” Orak replied.  Apex fired her upgraded Wind Jammers into the mutant crowd, pleased to see the mutants fly backward with enough force to dent the plasteel bulkhead. 

                One of the mutants cut her arm using a wicked looking knife, and Apex felt her hand grow slick with blood before another blast of the Wind Jammer cut a lovely hole in the creep’s chest.  Suddenly, Orak was at her side spinning like crazy as he wielded twin sonic welders like blades of light.

                Apex was suddenly filled with weapons jealousy as Orak’s welders cut through the mutants like butter.  Within a few moments, the mutants were either dead or had scattered.

                “Remind me to get one of those from you for my next mission,” Apex wheezed, trying to catch her breath.

                “Not,” Orak gasped, “quite standard issue, I think.”  When he finally caught his breath, the old engineer cursed.  “I’m too damn old for these kinds of shenanigans anymore.”

                “Hey, I’ll take your fighting over at least half of the dragonators,” Apex replied with a grin.  She hobbled over to a wall station and powered up the computer.  “How many of your charges got placed?” she asked, turning back to Orak.

                “I got them placed over turbines two and three before your call came in,” he replied.

                “Damn,” Apex swore.  “I only got turbine four.”  She pulled up a map of the city, scanning for mutant signatures.  She swore again, more colorfully this time.  “Orak, there’s no way we’re going to be able to place the last three charges.  They must have picked up on our fight, and additional forces are pouring into the dome.”  She gestured to the red dots moving closer to their position.”

                Orak put a hand on her shoulder.  “Then let’s hope three is enough.  We need to get out of here before our new friends catch up.”

                Apex nodded, and they began jogging toward the dragon dock, making a pit stop to pick up their exo-wing packs.  As the pair rounded the final corner though, they pulled back at the sight that greeted them.

                “There must be a hundred troops here!” Apex whispered frantically.  “We’ll never make it out!”

                Orak pulled a small device from his pocket.  “We need a distraction, then.  Who knew these extra bombs would actually come in handy?”

                Apex grinned and loaded the device into her Wind Slammer launcher.  She and Orak both pulled down the blast shields on their helmets, and Apex stepped around the corner, launching the bomb towards the blast door. 

                She was definitely not prepared for what followed.

                First came the heat, warping vision and melting the plasteel walls.  The explosion soon followed, deafening and terrifying as it shook the floor beneath them as convincingly as any airquake.  Apex saw Dark Dramen body parts go flying past their guarded position, blown back by the force of the explosion.

When the dust settled, Apex stepped out from behind the corner, followed closely by Orak.  She gingerly picked her way through the sea of bodies until they reached the remains of the door.  Apex heard the faintest noise before pulling Orak down with her behind a piece of the floor that had been uprooted by the blast.  From behind their barricade, a lava cannon shot blew past them, scorching the top of Apex’s helmet.

“Looks like our little friends haven’t given up yet,” Orak said, breathing heavily.

Apex was sick and tired of hiding in her own home.  She had had it with Dread Wing, Fryte, and all the other scum mutants and cragface Dark Dramen occupying their home.  “Stay down, Orak,” she whispered.  Apex gave a few shots over the melted plasteel barrier, and was satisfied when a gurgling cry rang out.  “When I give the signal, take your exo-wings and run.” 

The old engineer simply shook his head.  “I didn’t baby you in a medical capsule for weeks so you could go get yourself killed like this.  Besides, your father would be furious with me.”  He held out his hand to her.  “Give me one of the Wind Jammers, and I’ll cover your escape.”

“I can’t let you do that Orak.  You’re invaluable to Airlandis, and I could never face Zarkan and Miriam knowing that I let you die here.”  She gave him a steely look.  “We’re going together, and that’s final.”

Orak simply sighed and nodded, knowing he wouldn’t win this argument.  He pulled out one of the sonic welders and began to cut through the bottom of their plasteel barrier.  Apex continued firing shots to give him time.  They could use the deck plating as a shield to cover their escape.

When Orak had finished cutting through and attaching a small part of plasteel as a crude handle, he grabbed it and they both said “Maximize!” to activate the exo-wings.  Slowly, slowly, they began to rise from the ground, with Apex firing shot after shot in a vain attempt to hold back their attackers.  Once she made the mistake of looking over the barrier and almost had her head taken off by a well-placed lava gun barrage.

Still, she could see that the Dark Dramen had regrouped in larger numbers.  Once they noticed Apex and Orak moving backwards behind their shield, the creatures gave war cries, unfurled their wings, and began flying toward the retreating pair. 

Just as brutes were about to overtake them, however, a miracle flew in on purple wings.  Apex let out a cheer as Wing Storm and Peak dove through, the dragon whipping his tail from side to side, taking out many of the attackers, and Peak picking off those who managed to make it through Stormy’s attack.

            When the dust had settled and the Dark Dramen were either unconscious or fleeing in the opposite direction, Peak jumped off Wing Storm and flew to his sister, grabbing her in a tight hug.

            “Pexy, I’m so glad you’re okay.  I’d almost given you up…” he cried, tears pricking the corners of his blue eyes.  Apex sniffed too and squeezed his arm affectionately, not trusting herself to words for the time being.

            After long moments, Peak separated himself from Apex and hugged Orak too, much to the engineer’s supposed alarm and surprise.  “Thank for keeping her safe, Orak,” Peak said.

            “Ah, don’t mention it, kiddo,” Orak replied.

            Apex scoffed.  “Don’t let him get away with false modesty, Peak.  He kept me hidden for weeks in a medical capsule while my injuries healed.”

            “More injuries, sis?” Peak asked, concern in his voice. “Who did you run into during the escape?”

            “Gangryn and a souped-up Brain Slave,” Apex answered.  “But he’s dead, I think – vaporized by some weird energy reaction between his suit and the amber reactors.”

                “Good riddance, then,” Peak replied.

                Apex nodded.  “Agreed, little brother, but right now we’ve got to get out of here,” she said, before explaining her and Orak’s plan to blow the turbines.

                “Are you sure you want to do this?” Peak asked.  “There are a hundred dragonators out there distracting Dread’s forces while we Z’neth, Summit and I are trying to take back the city and turn its guns on Warnado.”

                “Only half the Warp Cannons are even still working, Peak,” Orak replied.  “I’ve checked them myself.  So even if we did take back the city, it wouldn’t be able to stand up against Warnado.  And I’d sooner lose the city than see Dread Wing use it against humanity.”

                Peak sighed.  “I see your point, even if I don’t like it.  Better call this in.” He linked up to Aaron, Z’neth and Summit on his Vox Box and relayed the findings.

                “Much as I hate to say this, I agree with Orak,” Aaron’s voice crackled through the Vox Box.  “We can’t fight a war on two fronts, and this could be our chance to get rid of Dread Wing once and for all time.”

                “Give us time, Father,” Apex heard Summit say through the Vox.  “We can’t give up on the city so easily!”

                “Why don’t we try both methods,” Z’neth said.  “I want Apex to get Orak out of here – they’ve done more than enough at this point.  Peak, take the charges and finish planting them on the turbine locations.  Summit and I will confront Dread Wing, and if we fail, we blow the turbines.”

            “Agreed,” Peak replied.

            Apex looked less convinced.  “As soon as Orak gets to safety aboard the _Aristotle_ , I’m coming back in.  No way am I letting my brothers confront Dread Wing without me.”

            “Wouldn’t have it any other way, sis,” Summit said.

            Aaron’s voice crackled through the Vox Box.  “You have your orders, then.  Good luck, Dragon Flyz.”

*****

            Zarkan was certain this was his private version of hell.  Swarms of gremwings biting, scratching, tearing at them, a cacophony of endless blasts from lava guns.  And looming above it all was the prospect of losing not only one of humanity’s last outposts, but his only love as well.

            “Amod!” he cried.  “Stay with me!”

            The blonde dragonator had taken a lava blast in the back, falling off of Titan.  Zarkan had caught him just before a swarm of gremwings overtook them, and blasted the foul creatures into dust.

                “Just…five more minutes,” Amod replied weakly.  “I just want to sleep a few more minutes…” he trailed off.

                “You can’t sleep now, babe,” Zarkan practically yelled.  “Thunder, get me back to the _Aristotle_!” he told his dragon partner.  As Thunder sped through the carnage all around them, Zarkan hoped and prayed that Z’neth and the others were having better luck.

*****

                Z’neth and Summit flew through the secret passageways of Airlandis, moving as fast as their exo-wings would carry them.  Orak had provided Peak with the data he had compiled regarding any remodeling that had gone on since their absence, and Z’neth was dismayed that Dread Wing had remade the Council chamber into his new throne room.  The brothers were on their way there now, more than a little red clouding their vision. 

                Dread Wing had held Orak and their sister captive for weeks in their own home.  Z’neth practically shook with fury at the thought.  The Lord of Old Earth was about to get a serious readjustment to his new living arrangement if Z’neth had any say in the matter.

                Z’neth was tired of the fighting, tired of the seemingly never-ending war with Dread Wing.  Though he abhorred killing, as Dragonator One Z’neth had always suspected it would come to this.  Old Earth was a violent place where the strong survived and the weak often perished.  He would not allow Dread Wing to become the strongest.  Humanity would show its strength today.

                He would have to kill Dread Wing.  It was not a decision he entered into lightly.  But to Z’neth, the constant threat to his family and loved ones was more than he could bear.  How could the humans ever rebuild in a world where the threat of war and death loomed constantly?

                Z’neth and Summit lightly landed where the passageway moved above the Council Chamber.  Z’neth could hear muffled voices below, apparently engaged in some sort of argument or fight, followed by weapons fire.  Summit looked at him, took out the laser cutter on his Wind Jammer, and nodded.  Z’neth followed suit, and in minutes the hole they had cut dropped down, revealing a grisly scene.

                Dread Wing and Fryte were standing in sea of Dark Dramen bodies, which apparently had been under the lead of the last one standing.  Fryte was well bruised and cut up from their battle, but Z’neth knew that the mutant could take a huge amount of punishment and still have the stamina to keep going.  Dread was huffing, apparently out of breath after taking down nearly thirty of his own troops.  Apparently there was trouble in the ranks.

                Z’neth didn’t recognize the Dark Dramen warrior…and yet there was something so familiar about him he couldn’t place.  Z’neth shook it away.  Not wanting to waste the element of surprise, he and Summit activated their Wind Jammers and jumped through the hole, blasting Fryte and the Dark Dramen warrior with their first blasts.  Summit then shot Fryte again before tackling the monster to the ground. 

                Z’neth’s blast never made it to the Dark Dramen.  The energy simply stopped and dissipated in front of him.

                “Foolish Dragon Flyz,” he said.  “Always thinking with your fists instead of your brains.”

                Z’neth never remembered hearing such an articulate voice from a Dark Dramen.  He spared a look at Dread Wing, but the mutant lord had taken the opportunity to try slipping away in the confusion.

                “Ah ah, Dread Wing,” the Dramen said, reaching his hand out toward the mutant.  “You don’t get to leave that easily.”  He closed his hand into a fist, and Dread Wing was smashed to the floor by an invisible force.

                “What’s going on here, Dread!” Z’neth yelled.

                The mutant’s words were choked, as if he lay under a great weight.  “Gangryn…betrayed…”

                Z’neth looked back to the Dark Dramen, who smiled with an insane glee.  “Not betrayed.  Oh no.  Usurped is a far better description.”

                “That’s a lie,” Z’neth spat, as he and the Dark Dramen began circling each other.  “Gangryn is dead.  My sister saw him vaporized.”

                The Dark Dramen laughed – a cruel, harsh sound.  “And does not a phoenix also rise from the ashes?  My body may be gone, but my mind is stronger than ever!”

                Z’neth was dumbfounded.  “You’re…Gangryn?” he asked.

                Gangryn sighed.  “It appears even the least intelligent among your race can be taught.”

                “But how?” Z’neth pressed.

                Gangryn laughed again.  “No way in which your puny human brain would comprehend, I’m afraid.  Let’s just say that weak minds are easily pushed aside.”

                Z’neth had had it.  Aiming with his Wind Jammer, he fired straight at the Dark Dramen, or Gangryn, or whatever the hell it was.  He simply chuckled, swatting away the energy blasts like flies.  “You can’t have honestly thought that would work, human.”

                All Z’neth muscles went rigid as he, Summit, Fryte, and Dread Wing were levitated, then pressed up against the walls.  “Yes, I think I shall enjoy killing you all,” Gangryn said.

                “Not as much as I’m going to enjoy this!” Apex yelled as she and Peak burst into the chamber.  Z’neth’s sister tackled Gangryn, psychic energy rolling off of her in waves.  Z’neth and the others dropped unceremoniously to the ground.

                Z’neth saw Dread Wing pick up a lava gun from one of his fallen soldiers and move to shoot Apex, Gangryn, or both.  Z’neth aimed quickly and shot the lava gun from Dread’s grasp as he moved to intercept the Lord of Warnado.

                “No more, Dread Wing!  One way or another, this war ends today!” Z’neth yelled.  Out of the corner of his eye, Z’neth could see Fryte and Gangryn try to scurry off, but Summit took off after Fryte, and Apex and Peak did the same for Gangryn.

                Dread growled, rising to his full impressive height.  “Yes, Z’neth, it does end today.  For today is the day I kill you and your accursed family.  You have been a thorn in my side for far, far too long!  Your death will show the other humans that even your champions stand no chance against me.  That I am the superior being!” he bellowed.

                “Yes, superior at running your mouth!” Z’neth shot back.

                Dread cast down his weapons.  “If you think you surpass a king’s right to determine the future of this planet, then face me in single combat Z’neth.  Place your ideals against mine, and then we shall see who emerges victorious.”

                Z’neth slipped off his Wind Jammers.  “Fine, we’ll do it your way Dread Wing.  One final challenge to end it all.”  Z’neth knew this was probably suicide, but there was no way he would let Dread Wing leave this room alive.  His family, his people, the world depended on him.  With that thought, Dragonator One threw the first punch.

*****

                Peak didn’t know what to do as his sister and Gangryn engaged in Round Two of their psychic smackdown.  Each blow cracked plasteel and crumpled sidewalks as they flew through the city.  Peak had taken several shots at Gangryn, but they glanced off like water hitting stone.

                Peak watched with horror as Gangryn threw his sister through a building, but breathed a sigh of relief as she emerged levitating plasteel beams as weapons, smashing Gangryn downward.  If Peak didn’t figure out something, these two were going to level what remained of Airlandis.

                Of course!  Peak flew to his sister’s side.  He could see the sweat running down her face from the intense concentration.  “Apex, you’ve got to lead him to one of the turbine sites.  We can detonate it then, and take him out with it,” Peak whispered.

                “Gotcha, Peak – make sure you follow, but don’t think about the plan, or else he’ll pick up on it,” Apex grunted before zipping off.  She fought Gangryn a few more moments before moving in the direction of the closest turbine.

                Gangryn took the bait!  Peak flew after them, narrowly avoiding the trail of debris they left in their wake.  If Apex was this powerful now, Peak could only imagine what she could accomplish after training with Beltran and the other telepaths.  Assuming they all survived this battle, of course.

                When Peak finally caught up with Apex and Gangryn, he activated his helmet sensors and was pleased to see them almost directly over the turbine location.  Peak repeated the bars of his mother’s song over and over again in his head in an effort to stop Gangryn from picking up any stray thoughts.  Logging in with the codes Orak had given him, Peak remotely armed the detonator.

                Apex began backing up, but slowly, using debris to fling at Gangryn to keep him over the detonation zone.  When she had sufficient distance, Peak opened a Vox channel to her.  “Get out now,” was all he said, and detonated the device.

                The explosion and flaming crater were several orders of magnitude larger than the one Peak had seen earlier upon entering the city.  Peak was blown backward several yards before his exo-wings compensated.  “Apex, Apex!” he yelled into his Vox Box.

                “I’m here, Peak,” she replied weakly, floating up through the cloud of smoke that wafted up from the ruined turbine.  Peak was surprised to see a psychic force bubble enclosing her, as the smoke curled around it like clouds around the Earth.

                Apex came to rest on the ground, and Peak landed beside her.  “Did we get Gangryn?” he asked.

                “I don’t sense his mind anymore…so I think he’s finally done for,” she replied, sinking to knees.

                Peak helped her up.  “We’ve got to get out of here, Pexy.”  Apex turned her bloodshot eyes on Peak.  _Crap, that battle must have taken more out of her than I thought._

                “But what about Z’neth and Summit?” she asked.  “We left them to fight Dread Wing and Fryte alone…”

                “They’re strong, and you and I know better than anyone that they can take care of themselves.  But first things first, I’m getting you out of here,” Peak replied.  Apex simply nodded, and Peak took hold of his sister under her shoulder, activated their exo-wings, and started the long journey out of Airlandis.

*****

                Summit took every advantage of the airquake caused by the explosion.  While Fryte was disoriented, Summit’s fist connected with the mutant’s face with a satisfying crack.  _Definitely a broken jaw at least,_ Summit thought almost gleefully.

                Fryte crumpled to the floor, finally unconscious.  Except now Summit didn’t know what to do with the mutant.  He thought about taking Fryte back to the _Aristotle_ and putting him in lockup, but the idea of dragging the huge mutie through the city was less than appealing.

                “Clear out, Dragon Flyz,” Orak’s voice chimed through the Vox Box.  “We’re beginning the countdown.”

                “Don’t need to tell me twice,” Summit replied.  Well, that decision was made for him, then.  “Maximize!” Summit yelled, spreading his exo-wings and taking off.  He would leave Fryte to his fate, then.

*****

                Z’neth pressed his hand to his side, trying to staunch the bleeding wound Dread Wing had inflicted moments earlier.  The mutant warlord had gotten the better of him during that last airquake.

                “By all means, take all the time you need in prolonging your death, Z’neth,” Dread sneered.  “I do enjoy a good slow torture after all.”

                “Go to hell, Dread,” Z’neth spat, glowering at the mutant as they circled each other.  Z’neth’s free hand held a wicked blade he had pulled off a fallen Dark Dramen, and it had definitely been put to good use against Dread Wing so far; despite the warlord’s bravado, Z’neth had managed to inflict several nasty wounds of his own.

                But he was tiring, and his footwork was getting sloppy.  Z’neth vision swan for a moment from the blood loss, and he cursed not having a spray-sealer on hand.  Definitely add that to the list of things to consider for the next round of dragonator equipment updates.

                Dread Wing chuckled, deep and throaty.  “Is that the very best your feeble mind can conjure up, human?  Old Earth _is_ a hell, and much like the demons of old I am not content to linger there forever.  No, you cannot keep me from my destiny, Z’neth.  I was born to rule as King of Earth and Sky.”

                “You weren’t born to rule, Dread Wing.  Not humanity at any rate.  If you ever bothered to read you might know we did away with kings long ago,” Z’neth retorted.

                Dread Wing was about to reply, but just then a massive airquake struck the city, worse than the previous one.  Z’neth was thrown to the ground, his ankle twisting with a sickening pop as he crashed to the floor.  _The bombs must have all gone off_ , he thought with a sigh.  He was despondent to see Airlandis destroyed, but he would rather it be a flaming wreck than the palace of a lunatic.

                The city began a sickening free-fall.  Z’neth tried to get up, but he cried out in pain as his ankle gave way.

                “What have you done to my city, cur!” Dread Wing yelled, launching himself at Z’neth.  The dragonator tried to bring his blade up, but Dread Wing caught his arm and twisted it, causing Z’neth to lose his grip and drop the sword.

                “It was never your city, Dread Wing,” Z’neth sneered.  With one simple motion, Dread Wing’s grip tightened, and Z’neth screamed as the bone in his arm snapped.

                Dread Wing pulled off Z’neth’s exo-wings and tossed him to the ground.  “If Airlandis was never truly my city, then at the least it shall be your tomb.”  He unfurled his wings, turning away from Z’neth.

                Z’neth felt himself go dangerously close to the edge of consciousness, but he _couldn’t_ let Dread Wing leave here alive.  He couldn’t allow the monster to wreak continued havoc on humanity.  He couldn’t fail in such an important task.

                And then, a blue angel appeared.  Nocturna took one look at Z’neth and picked up the discarded blade. Moving silently and swiftly, she stalked up behind Dread Wing and plunged the sword straight through his back.

                Dread Wing spun around, backhanding Nocturna and sending her sprawling on the floor next to Z’neth.  “Nocturna…you would kill me to save the life of this human whelp?” Dread asked, as blood began to trickle from his mouth.

                “Even I can do something a little crazy…when I’m in love,” Nocturna replied.  “That was something there was no room for in your world, Dread.”

                Dread laughed then, before doubling over coughing up blood.  “I always expected you to try and kill me, Nocturna,” he gasped.  “Though I admit I expected it to be for power and control of my realm.”

                Nocturna picked up a lava gun and stalked to Dread Wing.  “The funny thing is, I always did too.  Good bye, Dread Wing,” she said, before shooting him in the chest.  The once Lord of Warnado toppled to the ground, dead.

                Casting aside her lava gun, Nocturna returned to Z’neth.   “Hang on, lover.  We’re not through this yet.”  She picked him up with a grunt of effort, though his vision went almost black with the pain of being moved.

                Z’neth drifted in and out of consciousness as they escaped the falling city.  He vaguely remembered Summit joining them at one point and taking over carrying him.  When the trio finally emerged from Airlandis into the smoky sky, they saw Peak and Apex hovering there.  Flying together, Z’neth’s heart broke as he saw a flaming, smoking Airlandis descend into the Warp Winds.  “Farewell, my home.  You have kept us safe in a torrent sea,” he whispered, before everything went black.

****

                Gangryn found that pushing aside Fryte’s mind had been easier than any before.  The dumb brute was buried now, or perhaps even cast out entirely.  The body was powerful, but Gangryn didn’t miss the irony that he now inhabited the mulish idiot who he had often derided in private.

                Gangryn was alive though, and therefore got the last laugh.  Still, what a pity to lose Dread Wing’s body.  He could have done amazing things with that shell.

                Using Fryte’s body, Gangryn escaped the burning Airlandis as the city sank into the Warp Winds.  It was a loss and a setback, of course.  But not an insurmountable one.  Gangryn (as Fryte) was the highest-ranking of Dread’s lieutenants left alive.  And his first order of business was to get hold of Warnado and draw the city away from this bloodbath.

                “All mutant and Dark Dramen forces return to Warnado,” he yelled, suddenly irritated when Fryte’s dull speech emerged from his lips.  That would definitely require some work.  “Dread Wing is dead!  Retreat to Warnado!”

                That got their attention.  The mutant hordes poured back into the warship and Gangryn flew to the command post in what had previously been Dread Wing’s throne room.  “As the ranking lieutenant, I am taking command of the mutant forces,” he spoke into the microphone, transmitting his message (laced with a few subliminal psychic loyalty tones as well) to the fighting forces.  “We regroup and challenge the humans again another day in memory of our fallen lord!”  Gangryn added before ending the transmission.

                He had no intention of challenging the humans again.  At least not any time soon.  Gangryn knew the large community of telepaths below them was a formidable force, as none of the energy blasts directed at them after their shield was raised had caused any damage.

                And obviously he had no intentions of doing anything to avenge Dread Wing.  The power-mad fool had sealed his own fate.

                Gangryn stared at the amber-encrusted throne for long moments before settling into it with a great sigh of contentment.  Yes, this would do quite nicely indeed.

*****

                Dram’s heart was heavy as he surveyed the wreckage of Airlandis.  The floating city that was the only true home he really remembered had made it through the Warp Winds largely intact, but Dram was not sure it would ever be habitable again. 

                Orak’s bombs had done their work well.  The turbines that once kept the city aloft were now twisted and burnt scrap-metal.  The gleaming towers that ringed the city were broken, and even the great dome was cracked. 

                The city was still valuable, however, containing many raw materials.  Dram and the United Dramen tribes were working with rotating teams of Dragonators to guard the city until the human Council came to a decision on attempting to repair it or simply gutting it for the materials.  But even if they repaired the city, Dram did not expect it to fly again. 

                Privately, he thought it would be nice if they could repair the city as an outpost on Old Earth.  Though Mount Alayas was lovely, humanity still needed place to truly call home.  The city had crashed close to the mind-talkers, and Dram thought that being near other humans would be a great comfort to the Airlandeans in these changing times.

                “How does the western perimeter look, Dram?” Zarkan asked as he pulled Thunder up next to Shockfire.

                “Sadly as poor as the rest of the city,” the Dramen warrior replied.  “My scans indicate severe structural damage here – I would advise against sending in salvage teams for the time being.”

                Zarkan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  Dram knew the man’s lover had been injured in the battle and was still recovering alongside Apex and Z’neth.  “Great – more bad news to add to my report.”

                “Indeed.  I am very glad now for the small bits of happiness that come our way,” Dram replied.  “You have heard about the upcoming wedding?”

                “Who hasn’t?” Zarkan replied with a smile.  “And believe me, I am _so_ looking forward to celebrating something.  And dancing and cake, of course.”  His face grew serious then.

                “Do not worry, my friend.  Your sister will see to Amod’s recovery.  Of that there is no doubt,” Dram said.

                Zarkan chuckled.  “Aye, that’s true, my friend.  Our medical wards are full though, even with the psychic healers helping out.”

                Dram simply nodded.  It would be a rough road ahead for all of them.  Warnado had disappeared in the aftermath of the battle, out of sensor range.  Fryte was left alive – the only one of Dread Wing’s lieutenants known to survive.  Dram was unsure if the dull-witted mutant could hold together such an empire, though.  Kreigo or Vidak could easily step into the power void.

                “I should finish charting the damage in this sector before the next shift arrives from Alayas,” Dram said.

                Zarkan nodded.  “Will you be coming back to the mountain with us, then?”

                Dram shook his head.  “No, I must continue to guard the city and my Dramen people.  But I wouldn’t miss the wedding for all the amber on Earth.”

*****

                Miriam was bone-weary and tired.  She had been working almost twenty-four hours in the infirmary at this point, dealing with crisis after crisis.  She desperately wished for the facilities of Airlandis, but was thankful that Dram and her brother had recently recovered five working medical capsules and brought them back to Alayas.

                “Ilona, hand me the laser scalpel,” she asked to the lavender-haired girl beside her.  Poor thing had huge bags under her eyes, though Miriam was afraid if she stopped to look in a mirror she would appear the same.

                Turning to the young dragonator in front of her, Miriam tried to look as serene and gentle as possible.  “You have a piece of shrapnel buried in your thigh.  I’m going to have to cut it out,” she said, holding up the laser scalpel.  “It will be slow, and painful.  But once it’s removed we can regrow the severed nerves and you should be walking again in a few months.”

                His face paled, but the young man nodded.  “Do what you need to, healer.  I can face the pain.”

                “No need for dramatics, my young friend.  I wouldn’t let you face the unadulterated pain of a laser scalpel without something,” Miriam replied.  “Ilona, use a little of the anesthetic,” she said as the girl discharged a jet-injector into the man’s neck.  His muscles slowly relaxed and his eyes drifted open and closed.  It was almost a conscious sedation, but it was the best Miriam could do under the circumstances – their medicine supplies were drastically low, and had to be metered out slowly.  Miriam quickly finished the shrapnel extraction and left Ilona to finish cleaning and closing the wound while she moved on to the next patient. 

                Several hours later she slumped down on the couch in the medical office.  Summit’s hearing was in a few hours, and she needed to get at least a few hours rest before going through another emotionally draining experience.  Miriam set her alarm and promptly fell asleep.

*****

                Summit breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Miriam skid into the Council chamber mere minutes before his hearing began.  He was thankful she was here for him, though by the looks of her rumpled lab jacked and wild hair he should be supporting her.  She sat down next to Z’neth's hoverchair, and immediately began checking his leg wound.  Summit sighed – sometimes that girl just didn’t know when to quit.  His family was all in attendance – including Dram, who had made a special trip to Alayas just for the hearing.

                “This special hearing is called to order,” Joshua commanded from the table where he and four other judiciary Councilors were seated.  “We are here today to decide the matter of Dragonator Summit defying the Council’s express directions and taking martial command of the Dragonator Corps.”

                “The evidence speaks for itself,” a councilwoman began.  “Summit, you defied our strict orders.  What you started led to a chain of events that ended in losing Airlandis itself.”

                “Elspeth, you go too far!” Aaron said, rising from his seated position.  “There is no possible way to correlate…” he started to sputter, before being cut off by Joshua.

                “Order please, Aaron,” Joshua said.  “We have not recognized you specifically to speak on this subject as of yet.  But yes, the court agrees that Councilwoman Elspeth’s…connection lacks sufficient proof.  We had already forfeited Airlandis after the first battle.”

                Iranda pulled Aaron back into his seat, and Summit was definitely glad for this mother’s presence – if only to calm down his father.  Summit knew what was coming – they all did, really.  He would be stripped of his status as a dragonator for his blatant act of defying the Council.

                Joshua continued.  “Further, this court has had ample time to review the evidence, and it is our opinion that the matter be treated with a certain amount of delicacy.”

                Summit’s eyebrow shot up at that one.  What was Joshua getting at now?

                Joshua cleared his throat.  “Given Dragonator Summit’s past history of valor and bravery, and the emotional nature of the search that began this whole unfortunate incident, this court has decided to leave his dragonator status intact.”

                “What?” Summit cried, unable to stop himself.

                “Despite what you may think, we are not heartless in this matter.  We understand the importance of family, especially during this trying time,” another of the Council members said, giving Summit a warm smile.  “And we understand that your family in particular has sacrificed and done a great deal of good for the people of Airlandis and humanity as a whole.”

                “There is more, however,” Councilwoman Elspeth added, shooting Summit a dark look.  “Due to the nature of his defiance, Dragonator Summit shall never be permitted to ascend to the position of Dragonator One.  He shall also be barred from leading any squadron of dragonators until such time as the Council and the Head of the Corps agree he is worthy of our trust.  On this matter the Council is absolutely one.”

                “Furthermore,” Joshua continued, “Summit shall be barred from leaving Alayas for a period of six months, during which time he shall serve guard duty.  At the end of this probationary period, we will review the case again.  This ends our judgment on this matter.”

                Summit sighed.  It was a harsh sentence for a dragonator, but he was more than equal to the task.  He would prove he was trustworthy to the Council.  Still, he didn’t for one moment regret his actions.  His cynical side thought that Joshua was just saving face with the public – as stripping him of his position was a bad move during this fragile time.

                “Do you accept our terms, Summit?” the kind councilor asked.

                “I do,” Summit replied, placing his hand on the scanner to verify his acceptance of the terms.

                Council Elspeth sniffed.  “Then we shall reconvene in six months’ time to review the case.  And we’ll be keeping a close eye on your, Dragonator Summit,” she said, before rising from the table and leaving the room.

                Miriam was suddenly in his arms, hugging him and crying.  His family was over the moon that he wouldn’t lose his dragonator status, and Summit was right there with them.  Even Joshua gave him well wishes.  Summit couldn’t remember ever feeling so relieved in all his life.

*****

                Iranda thought she might cry at any moment while she helped Apex get ready for the big day.  After shooing Cifex and the boys out, Iranda’s crack team had gone to work on her daughter.  Apex had been adamant that she didn’t want anything too fussy, and Iranda had to agree that Apex’s taste trumped her own in this instance.

                The svelte wedding dress had turned out beautifully.  “It wasn’t easy to keep the design from the boys.  “Without Nocturna’s encryption codes, I think Cifex was ready to start digging through my personal files to find out what the dress looked like,” Iranda said with a laugh.

                “Always happy to be part of a little espionage,” Nocturna replied.  Iranda was glad that Apex had invited the mutant woman to be one of her attendants today.  Their relationship had been rocky from the beginning, but once Z’neth had made the family understand that he and Nocturna were in a relationship, Apex really had tried to spend time with and get to know Nocturna.  The funny thing was, they actually ended up friends.  (Iranda privately thought the girls had butted horns because they were too similar, but in no way was she ever going to reveal that little tidbit.)

                “Don’t worry, I had to pry Summit away too,” Miriam added as she and Nora walked in, both looking resplendent in their gowns.

                “They claim they don’t care, but when it really comes down to it they want to see the dress as much as anyone,” Nora scoffed.  As Nocturna finished weaving the small crown of Alayas flowers into Apex’s hair, Nora handed her a bouquet of the same blooms.

                Apex took a deep breath, savoring the scent.  “To think that these beauties once made us all go crazy.”

                “I’m sure I can re-engineer one or two for any guests that get out of hand,” Miriam said with a smirk.

                Iranda sighed.  “Pandemonium is the last thing we want at the first wedding since Airlandis crashed.”

                “I still wish we could have gotten married there,” Apex said.

                Iranda patted her daughter’s shoulder.  “I know, dear.  You know I tried to convince the Council to let us hold the ceremony there, but the city’s not safe right now with all the structural damage.”  Iranda looked down at her chrono.  “Oh my, I need to go find Cifex!   The ceremony starts in half an hour, girls – Aaron will be by to pick you all up shortly.”  She kissed her daughter on the cheek, “And I love you so, so much my darling daughter.”  Tears pricked both Apex and Iranda’s eyes as the golden-haired woman left the room.

*****

                Cifex smiled as Iranda rushed up to him, breathing heavily.  “Sorry I’m running late – just making sure everything’s okay with Apex and the girls.”

                “It’s quite fine,” he replied.  They stood at the back of an open field where chairs had been set up for the wedding.  A warm wind blew up from Old Earth, rustling the orange flowers gently as an undulating carpet.  He looked at Iranda, decked out in the lovely indigo gown she had pack carefully so long ago on the _Explorer_.  “You look lovely, by the way,” he said, spinning her around to take in the full effect.

                Iranda blushed.  “Yes, well, Apex was adamant that I wear it.  I just wish it wasn’t almost twenty years out of style!” she said with a chuckle.

                “Timeless beauty is never out of style, Iranda,” Cifex replied, squeezing her hand.

                She blushed again, before touching him over where a human’s heart would reside.  “Neither is strong moral character and courage, Cifex.”  She flashed him a winning smile.  “I’m so glad it’s you marrying my daughter today.”

                “I am equally glad,” he replied.  “And…thank you for giving me away today.”  Airlandis had a tradition where the bride was given away by her father, and the groom by his mother.  Cifex not having any family, Iranda stepped in as a proxy.

                She waved a gloved hand at him.  “You were my family before today, Cifex.  This just makes it official.  I’m proud to stand at your side today and any day.”

                Cifex felt something wet rolling down his cheeks.  “My optic systems must be malfunctioning again,” he said, as Iranda took a handkerchief from her purse and wiped his eyes.

                “I’d say they’re working just fine,” Iranda replied with a smile as she straightened his jacket collar and adjusted his pocket square.

                “Looking good, Cifex,” Summit said as he, Z’neth, and Peak joined them.  Cifex smiled at his new brothers-in-law.  He got along well with Summit, and things seemed smooth with Z’neth (though understandably they hadn’t had much time to get to know one another with all the chaos), but Cifex still worried about Peak accepting him.  The youngest brother had seemed surprised when Cifex asked him to be one of the groomsmen at the wedding.

                “You know I…don’t totally approve of you marrying my sister,” Peak had admitted to Cifex earlier.  “So why ask me?”

                “Because I am committed to making Apex happy, and I want you – as her brother – to be part of the ceremony where we commit our lives to each other,” Cifex had replied.  Things had been marginally less strained after that between them, and Peak had somewhat mellowed to the idea of Cifex as a brother-in-law.  Still, Cifex knew the youngest dragonator would be keeping a close eye on his sister.

                Snapping back to reality, Cifex grinned as the music began to play.  He offered an arm to Iranda, and the pair began their stately walk down the grassy path toward the front of the assembly, where Joshua waited to perform the wedding ceremony.  Iranda stayed standing by him as they turned around in time to see Aaron arrive with Miriam, Nocturna, and Nora.  Each of the brothers took their respective partners in hand and strolled down the aisle, leaving only Aaron and Apex at the other end.

                The music switched, and Cifex couldn’t stop himself from smiling as Apex’s dress was revealed.  She was an absolute vision.  Cifex spared a look toward Iranda, and she gave him a wink before dissolving into happy tears.  After long moments, Aaron and Apex arrived at the front of the gathered crowd, and Joshua began the ceremony.

                “Fellow Airlandeans,” he began, “We are gathered here today to celebrate new love that can spring from the most unlikely of places during the darkest of times.  As the first wedding since losing our fair city, I hope we each take a moment today to reflect on the power of our bonds.  And please take a moment to thank this beautiful couple for giving us all a moment of pure joy and happiness amidst so much sorrow.  The union of Cifex and Apex gives us hope for tomorrow – that a brighter day dawns after the long night.” 

                He continued on with the ceremony, and vows were exchanged.  Aaron and Iranda wrapped a silver cord around the newlywed’s arms, symbolizing the joining together of their two separate lives into one new life.  Finally, Joshua said, “You may seal this ceremony with a kiss.”

                And kiss they did.  Fireworks seemed to be going off all over Cifex’s neural net as he held Apex in his arms for long moments.  Her brothers added to the atmosphere by whooping and hollering along with the crowd.

                “Welcome to your new life, my love,” Apex whispered as they pulled apart, both grinning like fools.

*****

Summit smiled as he and Miriam watched Aaron take Apex, and Iranda take Cifex for the traditional first parent-child dance of the evening.  Twilight had come to the plateaus of Alayas, casting the sky in blues and purples and gold.  Hanging lanterns were spread around the vast gathering, joining their brethren stars in shining down upon the wedding banquet.            

Aaron and Apex sashayed, while Cifex spun Iranda in beautiful circles.  Summit knew the evening had been magical, and something stirred inside him.  He’d never thought Apex would be the first of them to get married.  Still, Summit liked Cifex, and was delighted to be gaining a new brother.

Miriam slipped her hand in his as they sat at one of the tables ringing the dance floor.  All around them, dragons had lined up like honor guards - valued guests in the wedding of one they considered one of their own.

Summit stole a glance at his beloved as Miriam tucked a lock of hair back into the updo she wore her hair in.  _By the great dragon, I love her,_ he thought silently.

The first dance ended, and Aaron escorted Iranda off of the dance floor.  Cifex then took Apex in his arms, and they began a slow waltz.  Summit was pleased to hear the band playing refrains from one of his songs alongside bits of Iranda’s music in their medley. 

_They make a good couple,_ he thought as Cifex twirled Apex, and her dress billowed outward.  _Strong, reliable, willing to face the odds together no matter what tomorrow brings._   Sudden clarity hit Summit like a free fall from Sky Fury.

As the second dance ended, Summit and Miriam joined the other dancers out on the floor, and as he placed a hand on Miriam’s waist, he leaned in and whispered, “Do you think we’ll be next?”

Miriam blinked, but didn’t miss a step.  “Are you actually trying to ask me a different question?”

“Maybe I just don’t know how to ask that question exactly,” Summit replied with a grin.

Miriam quirked an eyebrow.  “Don’t know, or too afraid to ask?  Because you know the answer is obviously yes,” she added with a wink.

He pulled her close as the music slowed.  “Then let me ask properly - Miriam, will you marry me?”

She kissed him deeply, passionately.  “Nothing in this life would make me happier, Summit.”  The other couples spun around them in a haze, but Summit saw nothing but what he’d always wanted. 

*****

Peak felt the slightest twinge of envy as he watched Summit propose to Miriam, then announce it loudly to the whole crowd.  Two of the sibs now.  The Dragon Flyz were probably a thing of the past, and Peak was some strange combination of irritated and depressed to see it go.

Or maybe he was just irritated with himself for feeling this way.  Peak’s greatest joy had been flying with his siblings; he had dreamed of it his whole life.  He hated to admit it to himself, but Peak realized that he’d projected his feelings of dismay at the Flyz possible disbanding on Cifex.  He’d admit that to the android sooner or later.

Still, he was happy for Apex, and Summit.  He loved Miriam like a sister, so that was certainly no problem.  He just wasn’t ready for everything to change so suddenly.  He certainly wasn’t ready for such a change in his own life.

Nora’s hand was suddenly on his chest, and she was pulling him away from the hot crowded dance floor.  Peak picked up two flutes and a champagne bottle from a nearby table, and the two strolled off a short distance from the crowd.

From afar, the wedding looked like something out of the old-fashioned fairy tales Peak remembered reading as a child.  Dragons, knights, and ball gowns as far as the eye could see.

“You look a thousand clicks away,” Nora chided him as she slipped off her heels and started walking barefoot through the grass.

                Peak simply shrugged.  “Maybe I am.”

                Nora stopped and planted her arms on her hips.  “Don’t shut me out, Peak.”

                Peak chuckled.  “Is this role-reversal night?  I’m usually the one who says that to you.”

                Nora traced the outline of his jaw with her hand.  “I’m usually the one who needs to be told, but not tonight.”

                Peak sighed, placing his free hand over Nora’s.  They strolled a little further in silence before coming to a large, flat rock beneath a huge oak tree.  Nora settled herself while Peak popped the cork and poured champagne.  Soft jazz refrains drifted on the wind from the party, but for once Peak was glad to _not_ be the center of attention.

                Peak sat down next to his...girlfriend?  Sometimes, even now, he still wasn’t totally sure.  He took a sip of the champagne (a gift from Beltran’s vineyards), and savored the bubbles popping on his tongue.  Nora placed her head on his shoulder, sighing softly.  Peak was unaccustomed to this softer side of his paramour.  He could handle tough-as-nails, driven Nora easily, but seeing her out of uniform often elicited strange feelings.

                They sat in companionable silence for a time, sipping their champagne.

                “Peak?” Nora asked, looking him in the eyes.

                “What is it?” he replied.  “Are you ready to get back to the party?”

                Nora shook her head, twisting a lock of orange hair in her hands.  “No...I just wanted to ask you something.”  Peak gestured for her to continue.  “I just want to know...are you happy with me?” she said, looking away from him as she spoke.

“Would we be sitting under the stars drinking champagne if I wasn’t happy with you, Babe?” he replied.

Nora gave a small sigh.  “I get that on a gut level...but sometimes I’m not sure that I’m what’s best for you.  Events like this remind me that I’m not ready to get married and settle down.  There’s still so much I want to do and see - there’s a whole new world out there to explore.  I love being with you, Peak, but I don’t want to tie you down to someone who’s probably always going to be chronically commitment-phobic.”

Peak sighed, then laughed.  “Is that it?  I thought it was something more serious!”

“This _is_ serious, Peak!” Nora huffed. 

“Babe, you’re not commitment-phobic.  You’ve obviously committed a lot of time to your work as a dragonator, and I respect that,” Peak said.  “You actually inspired me to take training a little more seriously - something Z’neth will forever be grateful for.  But I’m no more ready to settle down than you - I mean, I really like you, but it’s cool if you don’t want to be my girlfriend.  We can have fun without labeling it.”

Nora looked sheepish.  “I never said I didn’t want to be your girlfriend,” she added quietly.

Peak was momentarily dumbstruck.  “Wait, does this mean you actually want to start going together officially?”

“Yes and no?” Nora replied.  “Peak, I want something more with you, but it needs to come organically.  I don’t want to force anything.”

Peak nodded.  “Me either - but now I’ve got you marked for eventual gf status, babe,” he said with a wink.

“Fine by me, tiger,” Nora said.  “As long as you can keep up.”  And with that, Nora jumped up and ran back to the gathering, where she and Peak kept dancing until the stars disappeared.

*****

Z’neth was beginning to muse as the evening wound down.  Apex and Cifex had left a few hours ago, and Z’neth had noticed Peak, Nora, Miriam, and Summit sneaking off not terribly long ago.  A few people were still dancing on the floor, but by and large most of the guests had gone home.

It had been a beautiful ceremony and reception.  Z’neth was touched by all the well wishes his sister and Cifex had gotten.

“Good night, son,” Iranda said, kissing Z’neth on the cheek and breaking his reverie.  “Your father and I will see you tomorrow morning for cleanup,” she said with a smile, gesturing to the giant mess left over from the reception.

“Want me to help you make sure Dad gets to bed okay?” Z’neth asked with a smile.  Aaron had had just a hair too much to drink, and was passed out at his table. 

Iranda pulled a small anti-grav belt from her handbag.  “I’ll be fine, dear.  I brought this just in case.”  She sauntered off to float Aaron off to bed.

Z’neth rose from his chair, brushing a few crumbs off of his dress uniform.  He scanned the crowd for Nocturna, but couldn’t see the blue mutant anywhere.  Gods, she had looked beautiful in that dress.  Z’neth had been beyond pleased when Apex asked Nocturna to be a bridesmaid.  Maybe they wouldn’t be so at each other’s throats now, though Z’neth privately thought that the occasional sparring was just as likely to continue.

Z’neth waved goodnight to the last few guests before heading back to his quarters.  He pulled off the dress uniform jacket, savoring the cool night breeze.  As he punched the entry key to the door, it whooshed open to reveal Nocturna sitting on the small balcony with a glass of synthohol.

“I didn’t know you drank much,” Z’neth said as he pulled off his shirt.

Nocturna gave a languid stretched before draining the glass.  “I don’t know why I do either - this stuff is terrible.”

“Liquid escape?” Z’neth offered, pouring himself a glass and refilling Nocturna’s before sitting next to her on the balcony.  “Cheers, by the way,” he said, clinking his glass to hers.

“What’s the occasion?” Nocturna asked. 

“You made it through an entire day in a dress and didn’t tear someone’s eyes out,” Z’neth said with a chuckle.

“Ha ha, Z’neth.  I’m laughing on the inside.”

                Z’neth looked seriously at Nocturna.  “You really did a good thing today, though, and not just for Apex and our family.  It was the first step for people to see the mutants as having a positive future with the humans.”

                Nocturna flicked his forehead.  “Except I didn’t do it for them.  I did it for you.”  She ran a hand over Z’neth’s bare chest, and soon they were dancing to an older, deeper song.

                As they lay in bed afterward, Nocturna traced patterns on Z’neth’s arm.  “Tell me what the future holds, lover,” she whispered.

                “I thought you lived for the day?” he replied, stroking her face.

                Nocturna rolled her eyes at him.  “You bring out all sorts of unpleasant things in me, including actually hoping for a satisfying future.”

                “Well,” Z’neth considered.  “We’ll have to figure out what to do with Airlandis – hopefully she’ll fly again.  Then there are the terraforming operations.  We’ve got lots to learn from the psychic humans as well…” he trailed off as Nocturna kissed him.

                “Silly boy,” she said when they pulled apart.  “I meant _our_ future.”

                Z’neth looked deeply into her golden eyes.  “Lady Blue, I can’t say what’s in store for us, except I’m sure it will be full of adventure, danger, and love.  But the best part is that we get to write that story ourselves.”


	31. ~Epilogue~

~Epilogue~

 

“Welcome home, Creator,” the robot greeted Apex as she flew into the Citadel’s triangular entrance hatch.  It had taken the better part of a year, but Apex did finally feel like the cold metal sphere was becoming home.  She and Cifex - along with Orak, a crew of technicians, four dragonator squadrons, and a small civilian population - had relocated to the Citadel following her wedding in attempt to alleviate some of the crowding and limited facilities on Mount Alayas.

The central computer and the robots still recognized Apex as a “Creator” though.  And that combined with her high dragonator rank had made Apex the de facto leader of this settlement.  Cifex and Orak had tried time and again to work around the programming put in place by the real Creators, but without luck so far.

“Welcome home, love,” Cifex said as he strolled up the hallway to meet her.  “How did the appointment go?”

Apex placed a hand on her huge, swollen belly.  “Fine, I guess.  Miriam and Ilona think everything is progressing quite nicely,” she said with a smile.

                Cifex’s face split into a relieved grin.  “I’m glad.  I would have come with you, but,” he began, before she cut him off.

                “Cifex, you have a thousand things going on here.  You don’t have to come to every appointment with me.”

He hung his head slightly.  “I know, but they’re going to be our children,” he said.  “I don’t want to miss a moment.”

                Apex clasped his hand.  “And you won’t.  But me getting routine blood work is hardly a ‘moment’ in my book,” she said with a chuckle.  “But I am famished after my flight.”

                “Good, because Orak went to make you some food earlier,” Cifex said.  “I know he’s dying to hear any updates about his grandchildren too.”

                Apex gave a little groan.  “Why is everyone freaking out so much about the fact that we’re having kids?  I mean, aside from the obvious strangeness of the situation.”

                Cifex smiled, but rolled his eyes all the same.  “Pexy, these kids already have a place in a lot of people’s hearts.  And don’t forget, they’re not just our kids.”

                “No indeed, it seems as though I get forcibly reminded of that at every turn,” Apex replied with a chuckle.

 

*****

_~Nine months earlier~_

                Apex savored the first bite of the sumptuous cheesecake that Zarkan had made and sighed with pleasure.  Damn that man could cook.  Cifex had politely declined (knowing it would go to waste a bit on him), but Amod, Miriam, and Summit all dug into their slices with relish.

                “I wonder what was so special about the old city of New York that they got such an amazing dessert named for them,” Apex said after she had finished her piece and Amod was pouring after-dinner coffee for the small group.  It was their first night back on Alayas in almost two months, and Apex had fairly jumped at the chance to have dinner with their friends.

“I’ll send you the historical records I dug up - it was quite the town,” Zarkan replied.  “You’ll love all the clothing references, too.”

It was also a poignant time for Apex’s family, considering that Summit had just recently been released from his six month probationary period.  “I hear the Council’s review of your case went well,” Cifex said, turning to Summit.

“He’s been absolutely exemplary at guard duty,” Miriam said with a smile.

Summit smiled too, but Apex could definitely see it didn’t reach her brother’s eyes.  “I figured even Councilwoman Elspeth couldn’t find anything wrong at this point,” he said.  “Though I’d be lying if I didn’t say it’s been the most boring and wasted six months of my life.  What I wouldn’t give to be with you guys working on restoring the Citadel.”

“Yes, sleeping on cold metal floors and having irritating robots second-guessing you all day is just a barrel of fun,” Apex said.  

“I thought I got to be the irritating robot who second guesses you,” Cifex said, making puppy dog eyes at Apex before she whacked him on the arm.

The group chatted amicably for another hour, and Apex had to stop drinking coffee or else she’d never get to sleep that night.  As the evening was winding down, however, Zarkan gave her a very serious look.  “Apex, we have something we’d like to discuss with you before you leave tonight.”

“You sound like you’re arranging a funeral, Zarkan,” she retorted.  “Hopefully it’s nothing quite that bad.”

“I hope not,” he replied.  “Well, there’s not good way to broach this subject, so I’ll just come out and say it - Amod and I would like you to be the surrogate mother for our child.”

Apex spit out the water she had just taken a sip of.  She was dumbstruck, completely and totally.  “Bwuh?” was the only incoherent response her brain could conjure up.  

“Not exactly the reaction I was looking for,” Zarkan admitted.

Amod took the initiative.  “It’s actually a perfect solution.  Zarkan and I will both donate sperm, and Miriam will use it to fertilize two of your eggs.  Neither of us can have children naturally,” he said, a hint of wistful sadness in his voice, “But if we work together we can each have a child of our own.”

“Would you be moving to the Citadel, then?” Cifex asked.  “I would hate for the children to be separated from their sibling.”

“Actually...” Amod began before he was cut off by Apex.

“Wait just a minute!  Don’t go planning all of this out!  I haven’t agreed to anything!” she huffed.

Cifex looked puzzled.  “But we were just speaking the other day about possibilities for starting a family.  It seems that this is not only a good option for us, but our friends as well.”

“I’m not saying no, but just...give me some time to think about it, all right?” Apex pleaded.  “I would be the one doing all the heavy lifting for nine months, after all, and it’s not something I’d enter into lightly.”

*****

Apex understood much later that she’d never really had a chance against their combined forces.  (She was rightly irritated with Cifex when she discovered Zarkan and Amod had actually approached him about the idea prior to the dinner party.)  But in the end, she had been just as excited by the prospect as the rest.  It was decided that the child who was Zarkan’s genetic progeny would live with him and Amod, while Amod’s child would stay with Apex and Cifex.  Amod had suggested the arrangement, because, in his words, “Since Cifex and I share some similar features, I’d like his child to look like him as much as possible.”  Apex had cried at her friend’s (family now?) generosity.  It had also been arranged that Zarkan and Amod would move into the Citadel in order for the children to live close by.

Miriam and Ilona had seen to the genetic and medical health of the developing children, and though Apex knew she was in the most capable of hands, it hadn’t apparently stopped everyone from chiming in with their own advice.  Apex knew it had really gotten out of hand once Orak started cooking for her, though.  She shouldn’t have been all that surprised, though, considering Zarkan was his nephew and surrogate son.  Her parents had been over the moon too, of course.  Iranda had been staying in the Citadel for the past few weeks helping her get the nursery ready.

Apex felt a little guilty tearing her mother away from the terraforming projects she was overseeing, but Iranda had turned her most withering glare on her daughter for even suggesting she might have something more important to do.  “I spent eighteen years apart from my family, Apex.  I’m not missing a single second,” Iranda said.  And that was that.

At the last scan, it had been revealed that Zarkan’s and Apex’s child was a son.  He and Amod had batted around a host of different names, but eventually settled on Apollo.  After much consideration and digging in the historical archives looking for similar names, Cifex and Apex had settled on the name of mythical Apollo’s sister for Amod and Apex’s daughter: Diana.

*****

Cifex helped settle Apex at the dinner table that evening alongside Orak, Zarkan, Amod, and Iranda.  They were just about to dig into the meal Orak had prepared when a knock resounded on the door.  Apex sighed - probably another fire to put out or crisis to avert that only “The Creator” could take care of.  Cifex got up to answer the door, and Apex’s frown turned to delight as her four brothers crowded through the door all at once, followed by Miriam, Nora, Nocturna, and Aaron.

“I thought I’d make a house call, and all these yahoos decided to tag along,” Miriam said with a smile.

“House call?” Apex said with a laugh as she embraced her sister-in-law.  “I just saw you earlier this morning!”

Miriam grinned.  “Well, the results just came back from your tests, and I thought you might like to know that you’re probably going to go into labor in the next forty-eight hours.  So my house call is totally warranted - I don’t trust a good delivery to the second-rate medical robots here.”

“And you know darn well we weren’t going to let our first niece and nephew arrive without us all being here!” Peak chimed in.

Apex was crying then, so glad that everyone was there for her.  Damn hormones all out of whack.  

*****

Apex lay spent on the birthing bed, the twins swathed in blankets and cradled in her arms.  She was grateful for the cool cloth that Iranda had draped over her forehead.  She might have been a tad biased, but the children were absolutely beautiful.  Apollo was dark like his biological father, but he had Apex’s red-gold hair.  Diana looked like a nice blend of Apex and Amod, and the shock of hair on her head was so blonde as to almost be white.

Cifex, Amod, and Zarkan all stood around her, their faces filled with love.  It was certainly an unconventional family.  But as Apex slowly handed Apollo to Amod, and Diana to Cifex, she realized she wouldn’t rather have it any other way.

*****

                After Apex had drifted off to sleep, Cifex and Amod brought out Diana and Apollo to meet the gathered family.  Before any of the others could even get up, Aaron and Orak were there to take their grandchildren.  The children cooed, and Diana grasped at Aaron’s beard, while Apollo tugged on Orak’s glove.

                “So, who’s next to give me grandchildren?” Aaron asked, leveling a mock stern gaze at the rest of his children.  

                “Enjoy the ones you have now, Father!” Summit chided as he got up to take Diana from Aaron.  As he rocked the tiny baby in his arms, Summit could feel the paternal instinct welling up inside.  “Uncle Summit and Aunt Miri will give you cousins to play with soon enough,” he said under his breath.

                Miriam had wanted to start having children right after their wedding, but Summit didn’t want to until they had spent a few years together as a married couple.  But he could feel himself coming around to her line of thought.  As if sensing his thoughts, Miriam appeared back in the waiting room and smiled up at him.  “I’m ready to start any time you are,” she said, giving him a devilish grin.

                “I think that can be arranged,” Summit replied, winking at his wife.

*****

                The rest of the family had gone back to their rooms for the evening, but Cifex, Amod, and Zarkan remained behind in the medical ward.  Amod and Zarkan had fallen asleep in a chair beside Apex’s bed.  Cifex smiled as he looked down on the sleeping forms of his wife cradling the children.  He turned down the lighting, wanting to make sure they all slept well.

                Cifex settled himself in another chair and pulled out a datapad to keep him busy.  One advantage of never having to sleep was that he could take advantage of the nighttime hours to get a good deal accomplished.

                When his datapad had powered on, though, he found a message from Iranda.  It simply said, “Meet me on the roof if you have time.”  He briefly thought about sending a message back, but decided to head out instead.  Cifex diverted the security cams feed in the room to his own neural net (no reason he couldn’t keep an eye on everything), and set out in search of Iranda.

                Cifex’s footsteps were the only sound in the hallways aside from the undercurrent hum that pervaded the Citadel.  He took one of the elevators up to the roof - a new ring that had been added near the top of the sphere.  They used it mostly for growing food, as light didn’t penetrate the structure well.

                The door opened with a slight whoosh and Cifex saw Iranda standing in the dim light of the aeroponics bays.  She was wearing a light bathrobe, and her hair was in a loose braid that fell over one shoulder.

                “Sorry for calling you all the way up here - I just couldn’t sleep,” she confessed.

                Cifex smiled before wandering over to one of the windows and cracking it open.  A cool breeze wafted in through the opening.

                “You’re building amazing things here, you know,” Irada said, gesturing to the aeroponics bays.  “Just like I said you would.”

                “I took what you told me to heart,” Cifex admitted.  “But now that the children are here it often feels like I’m not doing enough, or fast enough at least.  I want an Earth now that is safe for our children and grandchildren to grow up on.”

                “Oh Cifex,” Iranda said, squeezing his arm.  “None of us are guaranteed safety, or even the fact that what we believe to be the best choice will really turn out that way.  I hoped to find a new home, and instead got separated from my family for almost two decades.  Funny that it took me millions of light years and that long to discover what was really the most important.”

                “But if you hadn’t disappeared, humanity would never have the terraforming tools that even now are allowing us to take back areas of the planet that were toxic and uninhabitable.  Even Warnado’s old resting ground is growing back,” Cifex said.

                “No matter the benefit, it was still a personal loss, Cifex,” Iranda said sadly.  “And I guess that’s what I’m trying to say - Diana and Apollo should never be put behind your work, Cifex.  Don’t lose sight of what’s truly important,” Iranda pleaded.  “Be there for them when they scrape a knee or learn a new song.  Read them bedtime stories, be a strong shoulder for them to cry on.”  Cifex saw tears streaming down her face.  “Please make up for my mistake in some small way,” she whispered.

                “Your mistake has already been wiped clean, Iranda,” Cifex said.  “You once wondered aloud to me whether your children and husband could ever forgive you, and the answer has always been yes.”

                Cifex dried his mother’s tears.  “That’s the great thing about humanity, Iranda.  We’re always moving forward.  We won’t heal OId Earth in our lifetimes - maybe not in a hundred lifetimes.  But we have a new and shining goal.  You once told me that humanity needed me, and I find myself in the strange position of parroting your words back to you.”

                After a few silent moments, Iranda said, “Where do you think we’ll go from here?”

                Cifex simply shrugged.  “I’m not one much for predictions, but there are new frontiers to explore again on this world, new dangers to face, and new triumphs to savor.  Who knows?  There could be even more pockets of humanity hiding out there.  The only thing I’m absolutely sure of is that wherever the future takes our family, we’ll be going together,” he said with a smile.

 

Fin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone who made it to the end! Thanks so much for reading! This project was a huge part of my life for about seven months, and it is a true delight to share it here. If you have any thoughts on this work, please leave a message or review - it would be most appreciated.
> 
> Special thanks especially go to fellow authors TinySprite and Strongheartmaid for reading this raw on LJ and cheering me on. Your support was invaluable! (And thanks for pressuring me into NaNoWriMo, because it got me off my butt and writing again!)
> 
> And thanks to Abrams-Gentile Entertainment and Gaumont Multimedia for creating such a wonderful cast and world that stuck with me for all these years. (Dragon Flyz is their property, btw. I don't own anything other than my original characters and concepts.)


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